


Not What it Seems

by Colelockian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Johnlock Fluff, Other, Post Reichenbach, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colelockian/pseuds/Colelockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has Sherlock back and things will never be the same especially with a new distraction and a mysterious murder spree that has even the great Consulting Detective on his toes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgiveness

_Can you believe it? The nerve of that man! The audacity of that infernal robot!_

_Two years have gone by without so much as a word and that monster of man shows up and expects a warm welcome as if nothing has happened!_

_I’m surprised at myself for my own reaction. I had imagined the scene many times when I still had the strong feeling that his death had been faked. I saw myself reenacting movie scenes of slow motion running on the beach, god I am a romantic! I imagine tears not just from myself but from him as well, pff only in my imagination! How it really went down was more of stunned silence before I couldn’t help but hit the smirk right off his face!_

_Sherlock Holmes!_

_A devil of a man! Sadly my arrogant best friend, how can I be friends with such a man? I often asked that question myself._

_Mary, oh Mary. That woman that I love with her smiling face wasn’t even fazed by Sherlock’s attitude. She even said “I like him,” Like him! LIKE HIM!!! Who in their right mind likes that man...sigh’ I am one of those people._

_Seeing him after two years of nothing should have been a punch in the face but it wasn’t I felt relief wash through me. Pure relief, a weight lifted from my shoulders and I wanted nothing more than to hug the life from that man. I went for the latter and hit him with my frustration, well it was a little more physical than that but you get the point._

_I want to be mad at him, I want nothing more than to be livid but again I am surprised to find I forgave him the moment I saw him alive. I am happy he is alive a little irritated that he didn’t let me in on the whole situation but happy none the less. Though I must admit I am not going to let him off lightly. I could see in his face that he was surprised by my initial reaction but he soon took on the face of someone truly shamed and full of guilt. I don’t want to lose my chance to make him truly work for forgiveness plus on the upper hand I'll get to enjoy his attempt at fixing what he thinks is broken._

 

John stopped typing here, staring at the computer screen, contemplating the next words. Writing a blog was hard especially after having spent the last two years avoiding the ordeal since it brought back distasteful memories. But here he was after a night of unbelievable drama writing about none other than the recently resurrected Sherlock Holmes.

“Damnable prat,” John muttered a slim smile on his face as he hit the delete button watching the words disappear.

“If you want to be convincing you should stop smiling,” Mary suggested as she walked by.

John dropped the smile closing the laptop. “What do you mean?” he asked innocently as he stood.

Mary glanced up from the wash her own smile bright on her face. “You know exactly what John,” she said knowingly John waited for her to elaborate, “You think you’re so clever. You mister are an open book.”

He frowned wanting her to speak clearly. “I haven’t the faintest of what you’re prattling about,” he scoffed.

Mary snorted her smile only grew. “John Watson don’t even think for a minute I don’t know what you are doing to Sherlock. Giving him a guilt trip even though you’ve already forgiven him, you are a naughty man.” She spoke John stared at her a moment watching her fold the linens.

Finally he smiled. “Could never pull one over on you?” John laughed walking over to her and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Like I said an open book, you big softy,” Mary repeated patting his face.

“So you really don’t like my mustache?” John asked Mary sighed dropping her arms and looking at him.

“Why does that bother you so much?” She asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck searching for his next words. “It’s not that you don’t like it that bothers me, it’s the fact that Sherlock, that bloody man was able to tell that when I couldn’t.” he confessed.

Mary smiled sweetly. “Dear I knew you needed something different so I let you have different. I knew you like that fuzzy thing so I told you I liked it.” She told him.

John shook his head wrapping his arms around her waist .“I only kept it because you said you liked it.” He said.

Mary laughed leaning into him. “I’m glad you have your friend back,” she whispered as they stood together.

John smiled taking a deep breath. “Me too.” He muttered kissing her lightly.


	2. Regrouping

_It was all different._

_No John._

_Dust and darkness,_

_No John._

_Everything looked to be in place but yet not at all._

_No John._

Sherlock Holmes stood in the familiar flat of 221B Baker Street looking around the room, his thoughts spinning with the events of the night before. He hadn’t stopped to observe the accommodations in the late hours seeing only to the nearest sofa after the multiple hits he had taken from John Watson’s fury.

_My Watson,_

He thought sadly reliving the look of complete and utter betrayal he had seen in the good doctor’s eyes at the restaurant.

“Mrs. Hudson!” Sherlock called breaking his bleak thoughts.

It took a few more calls before the creaking on the stairs announced the arrival of the creaky old landlady. She as always wore a bright cheerful smile that irritated him at points but secretly gladdened him.

“Oh Sherlock what’s all the yelling about? You’re too rambunctious in the morning.” Mrs. Hudson coddled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically. “Has anything been moved?” he asked walking around the room stepping over furniture or walking on the cushions.

The old woman looked about “Excuse me?” she asked unsure of his question.

Sherlock frowned “Has anything in this room been moved?” he repeated a bit louder.

Mrs. Hudson took a brief moment to glance over the room, “Dear no I couldn’t bring myself to touch anything like John I always had a feeling you would be back.” She replied with a wide smile.

Sherlock sighed loudly “Are you certain nothing has been moved or removed?” he repeated briskly.

Mrs. Hudson frowned looking a bit cross “Other than John Watson no.” she answered her words rang through the room startling Sherlock a bit.

Hearing her Sherlock realized that’s why the room felt wrong and somewhat empty because of John’s absence. Even when John wasn’t around Sherlock always felt his presence in the flat.

“Thank you Mrs. Hudson that will be all.” Sherlock spoke quietly that he was surprised she had heard him.

“Very well dearie call if you need anything or you could always come down and talk.” Mrs. Hudson said as her parting words before shutting the door and descending down the stairs.

Sherlock sat heavily on the sofa staring down at the floor.

_You could have been a bit nicer_

John’s voice rang in Sherlock’s head “You know me better than that, you know I don’t do nice,” Sherlock said aloud not feeling a bit foolish for talking to someone who clearly wasn’t there.

_You could be considerate of Mrs. Hudson’s feelings_

The voice scolded Sherlock puffed “Mrs. Hudson is a strong women who is very capable of speaking her mind, if she had something to say she could have said it,” he chided, “besides I don’t know about you but I believe I’ve had enough of everyone’s insistence on emotions.”

_Sherlock we’re human. Humans have emotions and so do you when you want to._

Sherlock sat back against the sofa rubbing his temples “Emotions are just the brain’s response to situations. Emotions are a chemical reaction nothing more and they are most certainly not something to be so paraded on about.” He sighed feeling the John voice starting to fade.

_Prat_

Sherlock chuckled finding John’s insult slightly amusing “I’ve been called worse things,” he murmured standing up from the seat and giving the place another look over.

* * *

 

“I am losing my mind,” John muttered as he stood in front of 221B Baker Street debating on going inside.

John was still reeling over the fact he had actually assaulted a patient who he thought had been Sherlock in disguise. Mary had wanted to talk about it but John only wanted to put it behind him “I am hoping that we won’t ever have to hear from that man,” he told her after the fact.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt him, just you know made him believe you are off your rocker.” She teased John had to smile at that. He then decided to go and see Sherlock.

So here he was standing in front of the familiar door with the brass 221B staring back at him invitingly.

“I should be home with Mary not here,” he told himself eyeing the front a bit longer. “Bloody hell,” John hissed moving for the door.

Moving through for the stairs leading up to Sherlock’s flat, John passed Mrs. Hudson door and he smiled softly when he heard her familiar rummaging beyond the door. Hurrying up the stairs John planted a few knocks on the door before entering without waiting for permission.

The living room was empty, still the same clutter that John had lived with but it was a welcoming sight.

“Sherlock,” he called not wanting to look for the man. A momentary pause followed by the heavy footfalls of the inhabitant from the kitchen before Sherlock’s lanky figure appeared wrapped in his bathrobe.

The two stared at each other a moment, John found it a bit ridiculous so he moved to sit down in his usual armchair. As he passed Sherlock the taller man actually flinched “What’s that about?” John asked lowering himself into the seat.

Sherlock was quiet as he moved to flop gracelessly down on the sofa “I didn’t want you to hit me again,” he confessed John glanced over his friend’s face noting the barely visible yellowing bruises.

“No I think you had enough last night,” John told him giving the man a hint of irritation at the edge of his voice.

Sherlock looked immediately guilty “John I cannot profess how incredibly sorry I am for the last two years, it was a necessary precaution but I realize that it may have damaged whatever friendship we had,” he spoke and would have continued if John hadn’t held up a hand.

“I haven’t come here to hear your apology Sherlock,” he sighed folding his hands on his lap, “I came here to hear what you needed me for.” John did want to know but not at the moment. He didn’t want to hear the reasoning behind Sherlock, forcing him to watch a fake suicide.

Sherlock took a brief pause before clearing his throat “Ah of course right to business then, good,” he said with a flash of disappointment followed by relief. John knew his friend was rather uncomfortable when it came to talking about feelings or most human natures.

“Mycroft was kind enough to ascertain my assistance in the apprehension of a terrorist faction that is planning on an attack on London itself.” Sherlock spoke quickly.

John’s eyes widened “Terrorists?” he breathed.

Sherlock nodded “Indeed Mycroft believes the attack is imminent and will occur in the next few days,” he said, “I have been keeping tabs on known and suspected agents.” Sherlock reported standing and promptly step over the coffee table moving towards the desk covered in loose papers.

John pushed himself from the chair and followed though going around the furniture instead of over. Sherlock proceeded to show John several pictures of ordinary looking men and woman “And?” John asked after the show and tell. Sherlock glanced at him with a questioning look.

John sighed “And what did you find after observing these people?” he clarified.

Sherlock frowned looking back at the paper’s “Absolutely nothing if anyone of them were involved there would be signs. An alteration in their routine but there is nothing. Though I did get this from a client,” Sherlock added pulling a laptop from under some papers and opening it up. Letting the thing warm up Sherlock typed quickly on the keyboard then accessed a video.

John watched a short section of footage showing a man getting on a carriage before the video cut to another train station showing the same train but no one got off. “That is certainly strange,” John commented dumbstruck by how the man disappeared between the two stations and also by how this connected with the terrorist attack.

“This man is a known associate of a secret organization but has strong political and governmental connections.” Sherlock said seeming to know John’s thoughts.

“So you think he is the one who will set off the attack?” he asked.

Sherlock paused looking at John “The facts point towards it.” He confirmed.

John watched him a moment thinking what they should do next, “Well then we should probably find out where this man disappeared to.” He said Sherlock looked very pleased.


	3. Forgiveness

_What a game! Not only have I averted a crippling catastrophe but I got forgiveness from John!_

Sherlock was grinning from ear to ear and was glad no one was around to see.

He and John had gone out like old times to solve a case, to solve **the** case and well the evening had turned very dramatic. Sherlock always found himself very clever but this evening had to be a milestone.

John and Sherlock had found that the man had disappeared to a forgotten station that had never opened before being shut down. So they followed the trail and found that the train the man had been on left the station with seven carriages but arrived at the next station with only six. So between the two stations the man’s carriage had been disconnected and left. It didn’t take long to find the carriage but next mission was to find the bomb.

Another twist came to light when the whole carriage turned out to be the bomb and it was parked right under parliament. With less than two minutes Sherlock had to disarm a bomb which turned out to be one of the only things he didn’t know how to do.

In the intense seconds of realization John began to panic and Sherlock could see he understood that they were going to die in the next few minutes as well as a few dozen other people. Sherlock being Sherlock wasn’t about to give up so easily and searched the bomb for a means to stop it.

Luckily there was an off switch but John didn’t need to know that just yet so Sherlock let him believe for the next few moments that they were truly going to die. Sherlock was even kind enough to throw in his own theatrics a few fake tears, some weepy apology, blah, blah, blah. John soaked it right up and told Sherlock he had forgiven him.

It was Sherlock’s laughing that made John look at the bomb’s clock to see that it was no longer counting down “Are you kidding me?! Seriously!” he shouted Sherlock’s chuckles making red blotches appear in his face, “You knew how to shut it off?” John asked.

Sherlock’s laughter died “No, but the bad guys were nice enough to install an off switch on the side,” he replied gesturing to the small switch.

John blew out the breath he had been holding, “You giant prat! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” he snapped though he was secretly glad to see Sherlock was having a little fun even if the timing was a little inappropriate.

_Forgiveness_

Sherlock couldn’t have been more pleased with the evenings end. “Mrs. Hudson!” he called flopping down on the sofa.

Minutes passed before the older women appeared huffing from her haste up the stairs “Sherlock dear, what is it?” she panted placing a hand on her bothersome hip.

“Could you get me some tea? I’ve had an exciting night and a cup of tea will calm me.” He said.

She smiled “Well alright dear but I’m your landlady not your housekeeper,” she said with a fond smile, “Where you out with John?” she asked moving off for the kitchen.

Sherlock sat up “Indeed I was. We had the most exciting adventure with bombs and life threatening moments,” just speaking of it sent shiver through his spine.

“Oh my, that sounds terrifying!” Mrs. Hudson called from the kitchen followed by the rattle of china.

Sherlock jumped to his feet “That’s the adventure Mrs. Hudson! The thrill of the chase and near death moments! It’s invigorating!” he cried standing on the sofa. Suddenly from downstairs he heard the front door crash open and hurried steps running up the stairs. Seconds passed and the door burst open allowing Mary to enter, John’s Mary.

“Sherlock something is wrong,” she spoke quickly showing Sherlock a text she had received from John but wasn’t from John. It took seconds for Sherlock to work out the encrypted message.

“We have to go now,” he said rushed for the door Mary close at his heels.

“We need a cab.” She suggested surprisingly calm for a woman caught up in a life-threatening situation.

Sherlock shook his head “Too slow,” he said looking around the street, “We need that.” He pointed to oncoming scooter. Stepping into the street Sherlock stood his ground arm outstretched.

Mary stood by watching the scene go down chew on her nails nervous. The scooter moved closer and closer until at the last second finally hit the brakes coming to a flying halt inches from Sherlock’s hand.

Somehow minutes later Sherlock had convinced the owner of the scooter to abandon it and Mary and Sherlock were speeding almost skillfully through traffic. Mary got another text though this one spoke of John’s on coming doom plainly.

 “We have to hurry,” she called over the wind into Sherlock’s ear. Sherlock barely heard her, his heart rate had accelerated and he could think only of getting to John before it was too late. His mind was busy calculating routs that could get them there faster.

The minutes were racing by and Sherlock felt the air in his lungs tightening. More texts came and Sherlock could sense Mary’s hysteria with each one though she remained rather expressionless.

The park that the texts were leading them to came into view and Sherlock’s fear leapt seeing flames coming to life in a wood pile. As they drew closer screams of horror issued from a few in the crowd near the bonfire. Barely stopping Sherlock jumped from the scooter racing towards the flames.

“John!” Sherlock screamed grabbing the nearest piece of wood pulling from the pile revealing more wood underneath.

“Sherlock!” a muffled voice cried from the wood.

“John hold on I’m coming!” Sherlock yelled pulling more wood with Mary’s help.

Finally they moved the right piece and John’s soot covered face stared out at them. The pile now was mostly consumed in flames and the smoke around was thick. Sherlock and Mary grabbed various handfuls of John and pulled, dragging him from the inferno. They kept pulling for several feet to get away from the heat.

Sherlock collapsed by John hugging his friend Mary fell on him as well sobbing quietly. “You’re out now,” Sherlock was repeating under his breath stroking John’s charred hair.

Sherlock was calm enough to release John just to get a good look at him. John’s clothes were burnt in spots but there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage.

“Are you hurt?” Sherlock asked gripping John’s shoulder.

The man coughed lightly before answering “A little smoked but I’ll be fine,” he answered with a laugh.

Sherlock chuckled as Mary slapped John’s arm “Stop that! You could have died!” she snapped hugging him tightly.


	4. Something New

John coughed quietly into a handkerchief wincing as his tender lungs protested. He didn’t have any burns but the smoke hadn’t been so merciful. He was at home lying around on the couch feeling the after effects of his near death experience. John was relieved to be alive.

“How are you feeling?” Mary asked yet again as she scurried into the room carrying two cups of tea.

John smiled warmly “The same as of ten minutes ago, I’m fine.” He assured accepting the tea whole-heartedly.

“I’m sorry if I’m a bit of an annoyance,” Mary said smiling weakly, “It’s just for a moment I thought I was going to lose you and it terrified me.” She sat down next to him forcing him to sit up properly.

John hugged her tightly “I know I felt the same as well,” he said she leaned into him with a sigh, “and don’t worry you’re not being annoying at all I’m glad I have you to look after me.”

 

Weeks later John was back to full heath and in the mites of wedding planning.

“How about violet?” Mary asked holding up dress fabric.

John looked it over with heavy lids “Purple is a great color,” he replied meekly.

She frowned dropping the fabric “Its violet John, not purple,” she corrected moving on to another fabric sample.

The couple had spent the day running from one shop to the next filling out papers for all the different aspects of the wedding and John was on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion.

“Maybe crème,” Marry muttered holding up and off white fabric.

John shook his head “We don’t want the bride’s maids looking like bad milk do we?” he teased.

Mary smiled “Of course not,” she agreed dropping the white and picking up a soft green.

John hadn’t done much paying attention during the whole wedding process but he knew that he wanted it to be over soon “There I like that one,” he told her truly liking the forest green or whatever it was.

Mary held the color up narrowing her eyes to see it closely, she stretched the fabric really taking in the color, and she even tested the lighting to see how the color changed. “I think you found the one John,” Mary finally confirmed gesturing for a sales clerk.

Minutes passed and they were finally out of there and taking a cab home. “I’m glad we got this day to do this,” Mary said excitedly.

John smiled happily, “It was great getting all this stuff done it’s getting me anxious about the day,” he confessed.

She looked at him shyly “Not getting cold feet are we?” she asked.

John stared at her thinking her question over thoroughly. “No not at all,” he answered honestly.

Mary’s smiled widened and she leaned in kissing him lightly “I love you,” she breathed stroking his face.

“I love you too.” John said grabbing her hand and holding tightly.

“I’m going to ask Sherlock to be my best man,” John said abruptly stunning Mary briefly.

“I expected you to,” she told him. John smiled “But don’t be surprised when his speech at the reception isn’t all emotional or heart-warming,” Mary added John shrugged.

“Him just writing a speech for me is enough to make it heart-warming.” He said knowing that Sherlock might not even get the concept of what a best man was.

“I’m going to head over there after work tomorrow and ask him.” He told her getting an encouraging hug and kiss.

“Don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting?” she teased John glanced at her.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he told her firmly.

Mary smirked “He is a little,” she spoke quietly knowing he hadn’t heard her.  


Promptly ten after five John arrived at 221B Baker Street with a skip in his step, anticipating the reaction that Sherlock was going to give. Taking the front steps two at a time John let himself into the familiar flat.

“Sherlock you here?” he called closing the door quietly behind him.

Looking around the room John spotted Sherlock in his armchair “Hey glad you’re here I wanted to ask you something,” John began but let his voice trail off when Sherlock didn’t acknowledge him “Sherlock?” John called moving to stand in front of him. Sherlock’s gaze remained fixed on the space before him.

For a moment John was afraid the man wasn’t breathing but the slow rise and fall of his chest said otherwise. “Sherlock,” John tried again this time he grabbed the man’s shoulder.

The touch broke whatever trance Sherlock had been in. He blinked his eyes rapidly with a confused look etched into his features before he looked up focusing on John’s face “Oh John,” Sherlock said clearly glad to see him, “How nice of you to come, would you like some tea?” he asked standing up slowly.

John watched the lanky man head off for the kitchen still partly in a daze “Sherlock are you alright?” he asked the taller man glanced over him.

“Quiet so, why do you ask?” Sherlock questioned John smiled watching his friend.

“It might be the fact that you are adding sugar to cold water,” he chuckled Sherlock glanced down and found he was indeed doing what John said.

 “Hmm…how strange?” Sherlock muttered setting the kettle down as well as the sugar.

“Sherlock,” John sighed moving into the kitchen, “I’ve never seen you like this, what is going on?” he repeated starting to feel rather worried.

Sherlock frowned folding his hands neatly “I must admit I am rather at a loss of what I am feeling,” he began knitting his eyebrows together, “My mind is muddled and my chest feels heavy, while my stomach is swirling.” He described.

John stared at him “Are you sick?”

“I might be,” he answered.

John stepped forward placing a hand on Sherlock’s brow. “You don’t have a temperature,” John assured him wondering what could possibly be ailing his friend, “Tell me, when did you begin feeling like this?” he asked Sherlock thought for a moment.

“Since last week at least,” he replied, “I was on my way back to the flat when I got out of my cab and ran straight into another person. Following your unnecessary rules I quickly apologized to said person and helped pick up her fallen things.”

John interrupted at this point “Her?” he asked surprised.

Sherlock glared “I said her now let me continue,” he snapped keeping his glare on John just to be sure of his silence. “As I was saying yes the person turned out to be female. She didn’t seem at all irritated by my untimely encounter ‘It could happen to anyone,’ she assured with a graceful smile.”

“With a quick observation I could deduce she was new to London or to Britain for that matter, American, in her mid-twenties, and lost. I made that fact known ‘You seemed lost is there any way I could be of assistance?’ she seemed interested in my offer but a bit hesitant, ‘You’re not a creeper, are you?’ her question confused me I hadn’t heard the word ‘creeper’ before so I assumed it was America slang for rapist or mugger. I told her I was not a ‘creeper’.”

John again interrupted “Did you actually use the word ‘creeper’?” he asked holding back a laugh.

Sherlock sighed “I don’t see how that pertains to my story but yes I did, now shut up,” he replied John chuckled loudly before Sherlock started up again,

“She seemed rather pleased with the knowledge I wasn’t a ‘creeper’ and agreed to my offer of assistance. She said “I’m new here actually just moved from America to study abroad I don’t quite know the streets very well, could you get me back to Cornwall University?’ her request was simple enough but I felt the need to help her a little more. I asked her up to the flat for my copy of London A-Z to help her for future needs.”

“She was delighted by the offer and followed willingly. On our way up she told me her name was Shea Wilson from Utah I in kind gave her my name. Whilst I was searching for the book young Shea took the liberty of making herself at home by wondering around the flat like a puppy.”

“She was fascinated by everything ‘Are you some kind of Goth collector?” she asked though I don’t know how anything in here is remotely connected with Gothic architecture. Naturally I answered no that I was a consulting detective for Scotland Yard which made her even more eccentric and started questioning me about menial things. ‘What a consulting detective did?’, ‘If that was even a real job?’, ‘How I got started in it as a career?’ there were more but she asked so many I lost count. I answered as many as I could, getting distracted from finding the book.”

“Soon I was sitting on the sofa and we were talking about our lives. I don’t even remember how we got on to some of the subjects we talked about. She told of her home town and her friends. I somehow even talked about my childhood which was new.”

“We were in the middle of a conversation when Lestrade showed up asking for my help. Caught up in a tide I asked Shea if she would like to join us, she jumped at the chance reminding me of you for a moment. Lestrade took us downtown where a murder suicide seemed to have occurred but within seconds I was able to deduce this wasn’t the case but I was interested in what Shea could make out so I asked her for her opinion.”

“She moved around the small flat for some time before speaking ‘These are both suicides,’ I had come to the same conclusion though I was a little surprised she was able to figure it out. I couldn’t help but asked her how she came up with that.  ‘Obviously the wound on the back of this woman’s head is an exit wound meaning she put the gun in her mouth at a low angle so the bullet came out at an upward angle. That man is taller than her so if he had shot her the angle would have been different. He must have come home to find her and took the gun she used, turning it on himself.’ She explained I was slightly impressed.”

“‘Why do you think she did it?’ I asked Shea seeing if she would be able to figure that one out as well. The woman scanned the room before answering ‘She was depressed. See the medication bottles all of them are different depression medications.’ She was correct again. Lestrade was pleased with the report so we then caught a cab back to the flat. I got out but Shea stayed in the cab ‘I’ll take this cab home, thank you very much for tonight Mr. Holms it was quiet interesting.’ Then she was gone.” Sherlock finished staring at the ground. John was perplexed never have dreamed Sherlock would do what he described in his tale.

“That’s it, you haven’t seen her since?” John asked.

Sherlock glanced at him “No she came back the next day which I was surprised by if not even a little pleased. She knocked on the flat door while I was scanning my emails for potential cases. I greeted her and asked her to come in she was a little reluctant for some reason but came in none the less and took up your spot once again.”

“I had barely taking my seat before she spoke “I lied to you yesterday,” I was mildly surprised to learn this but I didn’t say so, ‘My name isn’t Shea and I’m not a student at the university. I only said that because it’s what I do when I don’t trust people.’ It was a logical idea and I didn’t hold it against her as she probably assumed I would. I simply asked what had changed her mind in trusting me. ‘You were open with me which I figured you don’t usually do that and you showed me the life you live so I felt that I needed to come clean,’ to be honest I felt warm when she said that content with the fact that she trusted me enough to be honest.”

“‘Then may I ask what your name is?’ I was curious and I was a little stunned that I hadn’t been able to deduce that she wasn’t a student, ‘Nikki Wilson which I didn’t lie about, I was a student at a university in America but I dropped out before I moved here. I live down the street at the Meadow Hill flats and work at the grocer next door as a cashier.’ She replied though she looked a little guilty about lying before. We had a cup of tea and some lunch before she had to go back to work. That’s the last time I saw her.” Sherlock said seeming a little disappointed by her absence. John had never seen Sherlock is this sort of state before and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the change.

“What did this Nikki look like?” John asked feeling he knew what Sherlock’s problem was.

Sherlock looked at John with a fixed look “What the usual female human looks like. Hair, skin, limbs, and digits,” he answered, “Shoulder length light brown hair, it was natural not dyed. Her eyes were a dark shade of hazel that seemed darker in contrast to her pale skin. She had a mass assortment of freckles as well that dotted her face and arms, probably more of her body but she didn’t show that much skin. She wore purple square frame glasses I assume purple is her favorite color because her lightly applied eye shadow was that color as well as her jacket.”

John smiled knowingly Sherlock stopped seeing the look. “I think I know what your problem is,” John told him patting Sherlock’s arm playfully, “You dog you.”

Sherlock was confused “I don’t believe I am a K9 of any breed,” he scoffed.

John laughed, “You might be you rascal,” he teased Sherlock glared “What are going on about?” he asked looking irritated. “Oh come on Sherlock, you must know?” John said but Sherlock’s unyielding glare spoke otherwise, “Fine my diagnosis is you have a crush on this Nikki girl.” John clarified.

Sherlock’s face turned to shook “Crush? You’re not suggesting that I have formed feelings towards Miss Wilson?” he asked clearly perplexed by the idea.

“Sherlock think about she is a female human and you a male human somewhat, any way but the point is that you have needs and urges like everyone else. Nikki took an interest in you when most everyone else shuns you for your arrogant intelligence. It’s possible that you could have feelings for another human being besides the ones we already know of.” John explained.

Sherlock stood and began pacing “Emotions are just the body’s response to situations,” he muttered glancing at John.

“Sherlock it’s alright to have these feelings,” John told him.

Sherlock stopped his pacing glaring at John, “I am an intellectual being John with a sole purpose to be above such menial human interactions so as not to get distracted from my work.” Sherlock spoke harshly.

John rolled his eyes “Don’t be daft Sherlock, Nikki won’t be a distraction just think about how interested she was in the crime scene you took her to. Does that say distraction to you?” he asked.

Sherlock’s glare lessened “But what if she um…wants an um…physical relationship?” he stammered John was silent a moment haven’t given that idea a thought.

“Well Sherlock there’s always a time for every boy to become a man.” He joked with a wide smile.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes “The act of intercourse dose not initiate puberty John and judging by my height I would come to the conclusion that I have already participated in that mandatory human development though that can’t be said about you.”

John was surprised coming to an understanding about Sherlock’s words “Do my ears deceive me or did you just make a joke about my height?” John asked watching Sherlock’s face break into a smile.

“Your hearing is fine, your vertical stature doesn’t effect that.” He teased.

John laughed “Wow two short jokes in less than a minute,” John said standing up. Sherlock just stood smiling his eyes locked on his friend’s face.

 

“Well I came here for a reason now didn’t I,” John spoke breaking the silence Sherlock gave him a curious look but didn’t speak, “Sherlock I was wondering, no more like hoping that…hmmmm…that ummm…you would do me the honor of being my best man?” John asked.

Sherlock’s eyes widened then his brows knitted together “Best man?” he asked slowly looking a little lost.

John shuffled his feet “Yes my best man at my wedding, you know it’s something the best friend of the groom does.” He explained waiting for an answer. Sherlock was silence his face still looked confused but a moment later it changed to stunned realization but he still didn’t speak.

“Sherlock?” John said but Sherlock’s eyes had glazed over and he had become a statue. Watching him for some minutes with no change John began to worry “Sherlock are you okay?” he asked stepping closer to the taller man but nothing changed.

“Sherlock!” John called grabbing his friend’s arms. The movement broke whatever trance had been affecting Sherlock.

He blinked rapidly looking over at John “Oh pardon me I must have dozed you were asking me a question, yes John my answer is yes I would honored to be your best man.” Sherlock spoke quickly flashing a bright smile John was overjoyed hearing his answer glad the alternative hadn’t occurred.

“Great that’s just perfect,” he said a smile plastered on his face “You’ll be alright with writing a speech for my reception?” John added.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes “Speech?” he muttered.

John nodded “It’s tradition the best man stands up and says nice things about the groom before making a toast.” He replied Sherlock took a step back sliding his hands in his pockets.

“What sort of nice things?” he asked.

John faltered thinking quickly “Umm…well you could always…hmmm…I mean it’s really…” he stammered scrambling for some words, “I would talk about it with Mrs. Hudson she’ll know what to do about this.” John suggested feeling that was the safer route than letting Sherlock handle it himself. Sherlock nodded in agreement.

“And Sherlock,” John said stopping Sherlock’s movements, “I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re not dead and thank you for all the adventure.” He spoke sincerely before embracing the man tightly.

Sherlock was stiff in his arms a moment before he relaxed into John returning the hug. The hug went on for several minutes before John thought it best to end it. Pulling away he eyed Sherlock a happy and somewhat nervous smile covered both of the men’s faces.

“Sherlock,” John said softly, “Don’t think it’s over for us,” Sherlock didn’t look convinced, “I’m still here and we can still solve together. My marriage doesn’t mean you will be forgotten, you’re a part of my family as much as Mary.” John told him watching a weight lifting from Sherlock as he spoke.

Sherlock’s face slid into an easy smile “I’m glad to hear that,” he said honestly.


	5. Deception

_He is moving on and here I will be with my memories for company._

Sherlock thought giving his farewell to John as the doctor left.

_How can he move on so easily?_

Sherlock asked himself.

_Am I so easily forgotten?_

His mind was a whirl with different questions. Sherlock was never one to care so much but then again he had never been the one for friends before John. His time away from everyone had certainly been difficult at time but remembering his overall goal made deceiving them easier and most productive in the end.

_Will I be able to go on as I did before John?_

_No…_

The second voice was softer but it was still right. John had come along and changed the foundations of Sherlock’s thinking and he enjoyed this new side of himself though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. No Mycroft would get too much satisfaction if he ever got wind of that information. Sherlock could hear his voice now in full annoyance,

_Oh dear brother mine, you are forgetting your purpose. Friends are a distraction and even one with a small amount of intellect as yourself must see the disadvantage. You and I are a unique pair nothing normal will humor us. Even the tedious idea of friends is a hindrance. Sentiment is an unnecessary curse._

Sherlock bared his teeth knowing his brother was correct on some level and it irritate him. To Sherlock John wasn’t a distraction but someone to count on, someone who kept him alive.

_I would take him as a friend any day, intellect be damned._

Sherlock thought to himself glad of the fact he thought and felt that truly. A soft knock on the door broke Sherlock’s train of thought drawing him to the door. Pulling the wood open he was pleased to find Nikki occupying the stair landing.

“A pleasant surprise,” Sherlock greeted gesturing for her to enter.

Nikki was dressed in comfortable looking jeans that hugged her body nicely, and a plain purple top peeking out through the folds of the usual purple coat. Nikki’s face with flushed from the strong winds foretold in the weather earlier but her eyes were bright and excited.

“I have the day off and since I don’t know many people in London I thought I would drop by and visit the one I did know.” Nikki explained pulling her coat off and allowing Sherlock to hang it on the hook by the door.

“You caught me at the best of time I have nothing going on at the moment,” he told her offering her John’s seat while he took his own usual spot.

Nikki eyed him “I don’t mean to be rude but do you own any other clothes?” she asked.

Sherlock glanced down at his wardrobe. He didn’t look out of the ordinary white button up, black slacks, and black shoes the usual. “What’s wrong with this?’ he questioned curious.

Nikki frowned “There’s nothing wrong it’s just every time I see you this is how you are dressed. I’m just wondering if you have anything else or is your closest filled with identical pants and shirts for the next ten years.” She explained.

Sherlock snorted “It’s either this or a bed sheet,” he told her.

Nikki snickered “Might enjoy the bed sheet look,” she muttered. Sherlock tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at her and Nikki gasped “My god I can’t believe I said that, excuse me I have a tendency of blurting out inappropriate comments sometimes.” She said.

Sherlock laughed “I have the same problem,” he interjected she smiled warmly, “I really am glad you stopped by.” Sherlock told her unexpectedly surprising himself and Nikki as well.

“Really? I would think you wouldn’t want to after the fool I made myself out to be.” She said.

Sherlock shook his head “Your actions weren’t foolish they were defensive whom am I to condemn such behavior. Beside I enjoy your company you do something to me that only one other person has ever done.” He said Nikki was silent looking him over.

“And what do you mean by that?” she asked.

Sherlock sighed sitting forward in his chair and folding his fingers together “I consider myself a high functioning sociopath and I don’t follow the same rules of the common norm. I find day to day life tedious for most individuals and have no desire to copy them. I find myself cleverer and deviously better than most people. In the recent years I have come to respect and tolerate a simple few whom I consider friends.”

“These friends have had to fight tooth and nail to come to the place they are now at and I find that very invigorating. Because of my friends I have come to somewhat of an understanding of the common people and thus I have changed to consider not only other’s opinions but feelings.”

“That in itself is an amazing feat but what you were able to do the other night seemed the impossible. I spoke to you about my childhood something I have never done not even with my best friend. It was…extraordinary.” Sherlock told her, “I have never felt so comfortable with another human being before and I didn’t even realize the integrity of the experience until I spoke about it earlier today. And for that I am eternally grateful.”

Nikki let him finish staring at him intently and Sherlock feared he had spoken wrongly. She stood slowly keeping her eyes on him “Never in my life have I heard anything like that and I doubt I ever will again,” she started her face a blank page before Sherlock.

“You are blunt, and arrogant but I see you are trying to understand the world around you. And the way your eyes light up when you are working is inspiring. I’ve never met anyone like you Sherlock Holms and I hope I never will.” Sherlock’s breath caught in his lungs hoping she will continue which luckily for him she did, “You are too strange and unique for there to be a second you.” Nikki smiled.

Sherlock was very impressed knowing now full well that John was rubbing off on him. He didn’t need to use his deducting skills to see how special this woman was even The Women had never affected him so.

_She finds me unique, funny I was thinking the same about her._

Sherlock stood watching her face as she followed him. Eyeing her he detected her heart rate increase by the vein pulsing in her neck, he watched her eyes dilate and her breath quicken. Sherlock closed the space between them stopping inches from her. There was a contrast in their heights so Sherlock had to look down keeping his eyes locked on hers. The faint smell of apples drifted from her hair and Sherlock thought of a summer day.

Tentatively Sherlock moved his hand to stroke her face he had seen John do this exactly thing before and it seem natural. Her skin was invitingly warm and glowed with life.

“What are you waiting for?” Nikki whispered Sherlock pushed hair from her face sending up another waft of apples, “Kiss me already.” He smirked before obliging.

Sherlock had very little experience in kissing and frankly the whole process he found very unsanitary but Nikki opened up a whole new world. Her warm mouth was seductive and luscious the intensity of the kiss amplified when Nikki slipped her tongue inside Sherlock’s mouth. He felt her tongue working around his own pulling and twisting it. Sherlock felt himself being dragged in by a wave of pleasure. His arms wrapped around Nikki lifting her from the ground she wrapped her legs around him as well as her arms.

Nikki’s hands wormed their way into his hair pulling his head back as her lips traveled down his throat causing him to groan loudly, an unusual noise to be coming from the consulting detective. She returned to his lips while her hands kneaded his scalp slowly. Sherlock moved forward until Nikki’s back hit the wall.

Using the steady structure for support Sherlock’s hands were free to do their own exploring. The soft tangles of her hair felt like liquid in his fingers as he traveled over her body.

Nikki’s hands found his, their fingers interlocked, and Sherlock had the urge to pin them above her head so he did. Nikki pulled from their passion, panting. Sherlock eyed her nervously keeping her arms held firmly. She searched his face before a smile formed on her mouth Sherlock was relieved and moved in for more kissing. He release her hands pressed more firmly against her. Nikki was busy pulling on his shirt while Sherlock slipped his own fingers underneath hers. His hands stroked her stomach loving the movement of her skin as she pulsed against him.

Nikki pulled away again pressing her forehead into his breathing heavily her eyes filled with lust “Sherlock,” she breathed he enjoyed the way her American accent played with his name when she said it, “We need to slow down.” Nikki told him.

His whole body wanted nothing more than to give into its natural urges but his mind saw sense in her words. Slowly he lowered her to the ground keeping her pressed to the wall.

Her eyes were fixed on him cooling by the seconds “For someone who claims to be above the rules of the common norm you seem rather experienced in it,” Nikki said smiling.

Sherlock chuckled at that planting a quick kiss on her mouth before stepping back. “Believe me when I say I am as surprised as you,” he spoke honestly tucking his shirt back into his pants.

“Now I believe you when you say you are pleased to see me,” Nikki teased Sherlock smiled stroking her cheek with his fingertips.

She smiled softly “So Mr. Holmes what have you been doing since the last time I saw you?” she asked taking John’s seat as if nothing had occurred Sherlock was mildly impressed but kept his expressions neutral as he returned to his own chair.

“I have been waiting for my next case but things have been slow no interesting cases have come to my attention,” he sighed Nikki smirked.

“Oh I bet some have come but none to your satisfaction.” She laughed he couldn’t help but smile.

“I had a few love affairs, some political corruption, and the usual day to day nonsense all I was able to solve within minutes without even leaving my seat.” Sherlock told her.

“And when you’re not being bored by day to day nonsense?” she asked he eyed her thoroughly.

“I’ve been sitting being bored with being bored. London has changed since I came back its wild nature has been subdued.” Sherlock replied sighing heavily rotating in his seat so his long legs dangled over one of the arms.

“You speak as though you are disappointed,” Nikki said.

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment “Everything here has changed while I was gone and I can’t help but think coming back might not have been the thing to do.” He spoke not thinking of the city at all but the people within it.

“Maybe it’s not the city that has changed maybe it’s you.” She suggested.

Sherlock looked at her, “What do you mean?” he questioned wanting more clarification.

Nikki frowned thinking for a moment even sitting forward in John’s chair “I haven’t know you long but I have a feeling that you are different than who you were before your leaving but you would have to confirm that yourself.” She explained Sherlock frowned jumping to his feet and began to pace.

 

* * *

 

She watched him moving back and forth, her eyes following his movement with some satisfaction.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Nikki asked herself again. The last couple of weeks that she had known Sherlock had become the high light of her new life in London. None of her visits had ever been tedious and she was getting all the information that she was hoping for. Oh he was indeed as clever as she had been told but nothing could have prepared her for him.

She smiled to herself thinking of the coming weeks and how they would pan out for the consulting detective.

_Oh my dear Sherlock the fun we will have!_

 

* * *

 

_Why did I even listen to her?_

Sherlock scolded himself. Several nights had passed since Nikki’s last visit and her cryptic analysis that left Sherlock’s mind even more of a whirl.

_Damn her! And damn these thoughts!_

He berated throwing himself onto the couch. Sherlock stared at the ceiling before rolling on to his stomach burying his head in a pillow.

_Have I really changed?_

_Yes…of course._

_Before or after the fall?_

_Before…_

_John?_

_Absolutely…_

Sherlock groaned though it was muffled by the pillow and didn’t voice his true anguish. These broken thoughts had been plaguing him and it was infuriating! What were they supposed to mean?

_That you are a complete git,_

John’s voice chimed in.

“Not now John,” Sherlock hissed still pressed into the pillow.

_You had your alone time Sherlock! You know when you faked your own death!_

John’s voice persisted.

“How long are you going to use that tactic, getting a little stale don’t you think?” Sherlock questioned grumpily feeling the familiar guilt flooding his system.

_You’ll be hearing about this for the rest of your life!_

“Then I should have stayed dead,” Sherlock blurted out before sucking in a breath over the realization of what he had said,

_Now we both know how you really feel,_

Even though John wasn’t truly in the room Sherlock felt overwhelming regret over his words “I didn’t mean that,” he spoke truthfully, “I never wanted to leave in the first place,”

_I don’t believe that,_

“But it’s true,” Sherlock urged knowing full well that he was talking to himself, “If I had stayed would things have been different?” he asked suddenly not sure what he was going on about.

_What do you mean?_

“With us? With you and me?” he asked timidly not really sure where these questions were coming from.

_You mean that if you had stayed would I have met Mary, then yes we would have stayed together doing what you do best and I wouldn’t be getting married._

The John voice sounded exasperated and quickly faded away. Sherlock grew suddenly very irritated grabbing the pillow under his head and threw it at John’s chair.

“And there you go doing what you do best.” He muttered to himself.


	6. Fatal Attraction

“Sherlock? You home?” John called through the door as he knocked.

Pausing he listened to the silence that greeted him sighing John pulled out his key, unlocking the door. Inside it was the usual chaotic organized mess.

“Sherlock!” John called closing the door behind him. Nothing, John pushed further into the flat. Even searching through all the room John came up empty “Must have gotten a case,” he muttered to himself heading for the door.

Pulling it open he was surprised to find a young woman posing to knock as he opened the door. She blushed brightly “Oh excuse me I didn’t know Sherlock had company. I’ll just pop by later then.” she spoke hurriedly turning to go.

John was intrigued “Wait, wait! Hold up!” he called closing the door and locking it behind him.

The woman stopped glancing over her shoulder at him “Sorry are you Nikki?” John asked rather excited to meet her. She didn’t answer straight away as she eyed him finally giving a short nod “Well I guess you are real and not a part of Sherlock’s wild imagination,” John joked the woman gave him a weak smile turning her body to face him, “I’m John Sherlock’s friend.” He introduced holding out a hand.

Nikki shook it slightly “Sherlock mentioned you,” she said John frowned _mentioned me?_ He thought disappointed but forced those thoughts away.

“So you were here to see Sherlock?” he asked wanting to know more about her since he had the chance.

Nikki nodded “It’s my day off and I thought I’d stop by for a bit,” she answered curtly glancing at the door.

“You could wait in the flat if you would like but if he’s on a case he won’t be back for some time,” John told her getting a sudden idea, “Hey you want to grab some lunch with me, I know a little place nearby?” he asked.

Nikki stared back at him with a surprised look “Ummm…I don’t know,” she mumbled glowing red John smirked noting that she was rather cute when she did that.

“My treat,” he offered.

Nikki sighed giving him a real smile “Why not then,” she agreed gesturing for him to go first.

Five minutes later the two were seated at a table near the café’s window overlooking the street.

“This place is lovely,” Nikki commented scanning the little shop.

John smiled “I thought you might enjoy it,” he replied scrolling down the menu.

Minutes later their orders had been taking and they were sitting quietly not making eye contact. John knew he was missing his chance to get to know her so he spoke up.

“So Sherlock said you were Utah,” he started, though he wasn’t very familiar with most of the American states, catching Nikki’s attention.

“Yes, but I moved to go to university,” she offered he nodded.

“But you dropped out to move here,” he added.

She smiled weakly “Not the wisest decision of my life but I don’t regret it, I really like it here.” Nikki said John smiled.

She was really easy to talk to and opened up just as well. John couldn’t help but feel a slight pull to her. She was cute and had a charming smile.

“Did Sherlock mention anything else?” Nikki asked nervously.

He smiled hoping it would help her relax “Nothing but good things of course," he assured Nikki didn’t look convinced.

The food arrived some moments later the two were quiet as they waited for the waiter to leave.

 

* * *

 

_What did Sherlock see in this man? He is so…boring!_

Nikki thought keeping the smile on her face never wavered as she poked at the food on her plate. She eyed the man before her. She considered him handsome and dashing by normal standards but he was so…normal…so boring!

_How does Sherlock do it?_

“How long have you been in London?” John asked.

Nikki managed not to roll her eyes becoming fidgety with the normality of this luncheon. “For about a month now, I was completely toshed by how big the city was at first,” she replied watching his wrinkle his nose and chuckle.

“It seems you are getting the slang down,” he teased.

_Normal woman might find you charming, how droll!_

She whined in her thoughts giving him the giggle to let him know that his charm hadn’t been missed. “So what were you studying at uni?” John asked between bites.

Nikki had prepared for these types of questions “Art,” she answered taking a bite, “Not really painting, I’m not much of a painter. I’m more of the drawing type,” she added after swallowing.

John nodded though she could tell he was only mildly interested. “Sherlock told me you were a doctor,” Nikki said trying to get some attention off of her.

“Yes that is correct.” He confirmed after a bite she mentally rolled her eyes, “I prefer surgery but I deal with common cases at the clinic.” He explained which Nikki already knew and couldn’t help but think…

_The pet has got to be put down._


	7. The Handler

“It was nice to meet you Nikki!” John called to Nikki’s retreating back. She glanced over her shoulder with a sweet smile as she headed off.

_If I were a single man not about to get married,_

He thought letting his gaze drift down to watch Nikki’s swaying backside. He bit his lip “Nice,” he breathed giving her one last look before turning. Nikki wasn’t his usual type but she had this spark and a certain pull that drew on him.

“I can see why Sherlock likes her,” he mumbled to himself stuffing his hands in his pocket. Nikki remained on his mind as he stopped by 221B to check if Sherlock was back.

“John!” he greeted the shorter man throwing the door open for him even before he had knocked.

John looked a bit startled but entered the flat closing the door behind him. “Got yourself a case I see,” he said glancing at the smiley face and gun hole wall to see papers stuck to it.

“Indeed I have!” Sherlock exclaimed crouching in his chair like a gargoyle.

“Must be good,” John muttered dropping into his perspective seat.

Sherlock glanced at him “What gave you that idea?” he asked looking back at the wall.

John smirked “Your mood, it’s either the case or your new friend. I use the word friend loosely.” He added getting a thrown glare from Sherlock “John, don’t be an idiot,” he snapped springing from his chair. “Speaking of your new friend,” John started, “She stopped by while you were out so I took her to lunch.”

Sherlock stood on the couch moving the papers on the wall about. “She’s lovely,” John said watching Sherlock who didn’t seem to be listening, “And she’s a man,” John threw out loudly.

“Yes, yes I see,” Sherlock muttered not paying John any attention as the slender man stepped off the couch to look over the wall.

“John, look at these,” Sherlock spoke suddenly spinning from the wall and grabbed up some papers off the desk. He swooped in dropping the papers on John’s lap before returning to scan the wall.

John picked up the papers that turned out to be crime scene photos. They were of a young woman lying on a bed, her eyes were closed and she had been tucked into bed as if she had just fallen asleep.

“Are you sure this woman is dead?” John asked shuffling through the pictures.

“Most assured,” Sherlock replied walking over to his seat and perching in it, his eyes closed.

“Well from these I would say she died in her sleep,” John said.

Sherlock snorted “There was a large amount of phosphorous in her system I doubt it was natural,” he told the smaller man.

“Phosphorous? There are trace amount of that in the body of course.” John said aloud.

Sherlock cracked one of his eyes open glancing at him “It’s also found in many types of fertilizer and rat poisons. The amount found in her system was enormous and wasn’t come by on accident.” Sherlock added John looked over the pictures again.

“Anything else to go on?’ he asked.

Sherlock sighed lowering himself into his chair completely dropping his feet to the floor “The evidence was menial. The woman was middle aged, lived alone, worked a steady job as a receptionist at a small law firm. Her flat was clean and not a fresh clean, all the prints found were hers. There were no defensive wounds or bruising of any kind. Other than the phosphorous in her system nothing points to murder.”

“The contents of her stomach were clean so the phosphorous was introduced directly into her blood stream. That amount in her system it wouldn’t have taken long to be fatal and there would have signs beforehand. Vomiting, diarrhea, and pain but her flat shows nothing of that sort nor does her body. The food in her stomach was fresh so she hadn’t eaten long before she died. It’s a mystery,” he said his hands folded under his chin.

John set the pictures down on the coffee table “It is peculiar,” he agreed as a silence fell over them.

“You mentioned lunch with Nikki,” Sherlock said catching John off guard a moment, “I did,” he answered watching the man’s face.

Sherlock turned his face to look at him “And?” he asked.

John was confused by the one word question, “And what?” he asked wanting clarity.

Sherlock sighed sitting forward in his chair “And what did you think of her?” he asked rolling his eyes.

John smiled “She’s nice. I see why you like her.” He replied thinking about Nikki’s cute smile.

Sherlock stared at him then suddenly glared “You find her attractive,” he grumbled. John opened his mouth in shook as well as embarrassment, “Don’t bother denying it I can see it all over your face,” Sherlock muttered.

John closed his mouth “She’s cute,” he confessed lamely.

Sherlock frowned “Animals are cute, children are cute, Nikki is…” he paused searching for the right word, “Interesting,” he finished John felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him.

_What the Hell?_

He cleared his throat “People can be cute too,” John said weakly.

Sherlock gave him a curious look but the look vanished quickly as they heard feet stomping up the stairs. The flat door flew open allowing a breathless Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade to enter “Another murder,” Sherlock stated simply standing.

He moved over the furniture to retrieve his coat off the rack near the door. John pushed himself from his chair grunting slightly as he moved to follow. Lestrade caught his breath “It’s at 26 West Heights,” he managed not bothering to say anything more before turning, leaving just as quickly as he had come.

“He needs to run more,” Sherlock commented waiting for the doctor.

John frowned “No he doesn’t,” he said.

“If he gets winded like that just by climbing the stairs then yes he does. A man his age has a higher risk of heart attacks. Strengthening his pulmonary by regular exercise decreases those odds drastically,” Sherlock argued as he turned sweeping out the door.

The two were down the stairs and out on the street within seconds Sherlock threw up his hand summoning a cab and they were off.

“Maybe I should invite Lestrade to come with us next time we are running rampant after criminals,” John joked as they traveled through the streets.

Sherlock glanced at him as if considering the idea “Excellent suggestion, we are running quite often,” he pointed out seriously missing the joke completely. John sighed and rolled his eyes.

The drive to West Heights took less than ten minutes. When they arrived a handful of police cars blocked the road in front of a dainty two story. Sherlock had the cab stop, bolting from the car and racing away leaving John to take care of the fare.

John made it inside to find Sherlock cornered by his two favorite people. Sergeant Sally Donavan and Anderson stood their ground arms folded across their chests looking like an odd pair of twins.

“Freak,” Donavan hissed though Sherlock didn’t seem fazed, “Don’t tell me Lestrade invited you again,” it wasn’t a question Sherlock just stood quietly.

“I bet he circled around to make it look like he wasn’t here the whole time,” Anderson commented he sneered.

Donavan glared “Is that it Freak got tired of waiting so you just set up a murder yourself,” she accused.

_Morons! Can’t they see how brilliant he is!_

John thought growling under his breath wanting nothing more than to knock the looks off their faces. Striding forward he slipped his arm through the crook of Sherlock’s dragging him towards Donavan and Anderson forcing them to move aside.

“Come on Sherlock lets go get some actual work done and leave the ladies to their gossiping,” John said loudly glaring over his shoulder at the two. As they moved further into the house John let go of Sherlock.

“They don’t bother me,” he spoke quietly.

John sighed deeply “Yea well they bother me when they’re not ‘bothering’ you,” John told him catching a small smile playing on Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock grabbed John’s shoulder squeezing it gently before heading for the stairs. John’s chest grew warm as he watched his friends go before he followed seeing Lestrade at the stairs waiting. Sherlock barely paused moving past the D.I. quickly taking the stairs two at a time.

“Rough day?” John asked Lestrade as they took the stairs a little more slowly.

Greg blew out a large sigh “Rough doesn’t even cut it,” he replied rubbing his neck.

“I don’t know how you do it,” John told him patting his arm as they made it in to the room.

Sherlock was strolling around the room eyeballing everything and sniffing deeply like a large dog. John and Lestrade stood back watching him.

“Any plans this weekend?” John asked wanting to catch up.

“Hopefully get some much needed sleep, you?” Greg answered.

John shrugged “Might go to the pub if you’re up for it?” he asked.

Lestrade smiled “Definitely keep that in mind,” he replied seeming genuinely excited.

John smiled “I’ll text you place and time when I feel the need,” he assured watching Sherlock come to a stop by the body on the bed. “Excuse me,” John said moving to stand by Sherlock to get his own up close view.

It was an older woman in her late fifties at least with silvery blonde hair curled tightly to her head dull brown eyes stared lifeless at the ceiling. John grimaced as he noted her clothes they were most definitely designed for a much younger woman. A tight blue sequence halter top covered her chest, a mid-thigh black mini skirt hung on her hips. She lay half sprawled on the bed letting her legs dangle over the edge bare feet barely touching the molded carpet.

“What do you see?” Sherlock’s voice broke into John’s observation. He glanced to see Sherlock watching him.

_Revealing clothing, very smudged makeup, messed hair, obvious drug user…_

John thought “A Prostitute?” he tried.

Sherlock smirked giving John slight hope he might be right, “That’s what the murder wants us to see but these clothes were put on her after she was dead,” Sherlock told him.

John frowned cursing mentally. The taller man crotched down to look at the body from a different angle just as Lestrade’s phone started to go off making the D.I. leave the room.

“She might not have been a prostitute but there was a prostitute here maybe two hours before this woman died,” Sherlock muttered standing up straight.

“What?!” Lestrade’s voice snapped John looked to see the man standing on the stairs leaning against the wall a glare on his face.

“And how on earth did you deduce that?” John asked slightly curious.

Sherlock sighed looking over at John hands folded behind his back “Note the clothes made for younger woman plus the contents of this room,” Sherlock gestured, “The closet slightly open shows the articles of a young woman’s mess. The slight scent of lavender in the air from freshly applied perfume could be the killers but I cut it down to it being the younger woman’s namely the true prostitute.”

“Next the trash can,” Sherlock swung around pointing dramatically at the small bucket in the corner, “Condom wrappers I count fifteen and they are fresh within the last few days a woman with that much vigor isn’t in her fifties,” John couldn’t have agreed more put he stayed quiet letting Sherlock finish. “This woman was a handler much like a secretary,” he explained John was flabbergasted. It was almost as if a vale had been lifted John could see what Sherlock was seeing and the signs were just as clear. This is how he felt every time a deduction came out of Sherlock’s mouth, it was pure wonder.

_Amazing!_

“Can you see any wounds?” Sherlock asked leaning over the body in search before stepping back to allow John to get closer.

“Hang on,” John murmured digging in his pockets he pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on. He looked over the body, shifting stiff limbs. Minutes went by as he thoroughly scanned the body “I’ve found nothing,” John finally said giving up pulling the gloves off.

Sherlock didn’t seem surprised “An autopsy might reveal a very large amount of phosphorous in her system,” he suggested.

John stared “You think this is linked to Sleep Beauty?” he asked seeing a confused look in Sherlock’s eyes.

“Sleep beauty? I wouldn’t call her beautiful but yes I think we have a serial killer on our hands,” he replied an excited gleam in his eyes.

Lestrade came back into the room looking haggard “Results came in,” he announced, “Prints matched up with about twenty different people all men but one.”

Sherlock skipped “Then John and I will go directly to see those results and see what we come up with.” He said clearly in a good mood.


	8. Drunken Haze

“I don’t understand!” Sherlock growled grabbing up some papers throwing them across the room.

He was back at 221B and he was alone. It had been several days since finding The Handler as John had come to call her and everything seem to be hitting a wall. At first Sherlock saw the end coming to this interesting case but it turned sour when the evidence suddenly fell short. There had been twenty different prints at the house, one pair belonging to one Hilda Martin aka The Handler. The others were men from various different backgrounds.

Scotland Yard began pulling these men in one and one. Everyone without fail pleaded innocent to ever have been in that house. Sherlock watch through the two way mirror while the men were interrogated and finding that they were all telling the truth. Sherlock, being Sherlock knew he had to make sure so he check their alibis and of course they all checked out. Miss Martin’s autopsy report came back with a surprise instead of phosphorous in her system it was sulfur. This left Sherlock completely stuck!

_Finger prints at a crime scene that all match but to men who had never been to the house. Miss Martin a sweet old lady settling into retirement with no history or proof of having a secret double life evidence shows that that was a lie, or was it?_

Sherlock suddenly stopped his pacing that he had been doing unintentionally,

_The first woman, didn’t look murder but turned out to be just that. Second murder very obviously murdered and even displayed. Dressed as a prostitute for what reason? To distract me? No, to show me? There is something…woman looking asleep but isn’t, another woman dressed as a prostitute but isn’t._

“It’s not what is seems,” Sherlock breathed out loud though there was no one to hear what he had figured out.

_The murderer is trying to tell me that the crime scenes aren’t as they seem. First woman her flat was clean no new prints except her own. Next the second woman the whole thing was fake she wasn’t a prostitute and was never involved with anything like that but together what do they mean?_

He pondered the question pacing again. No matter what he tried to theorize it felt incomplete and this frustrated him.

_It’s an unfinished puzzle, there will be another murder._

Sherlock concluded texting out a quick message to Lestrade.

 

* * *

 

“Glad you could join me,” he told the D.I. as they sat at the bar ordering their drinks.

Greg took a deep breath thanking the bar tender as he drank, “I need this,” he said after setting the pint down.

John smiled raising his drink towards Lestrade “Cheers mate,” he offered taking a large gulp.

Greg returned the smile though a second later it disappeared as his phone rang indicating a new message “Bloody hell,” he grumbled shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out the device. John watched the man’s eyes darting over the words on the phone.

“Damnit,” the D.I. muttered laying the phone on the bar and finished off his drink.

“Nothing’s wrong I hope,” John said curiously.

Greg ordered another drink “Sherlock thinks there will be another murder or is another murder either way we need to keep a look out,” he informed the doctor.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked cautiously watching Lestrade grab up his phone again.

“First I’m going to text Donavan to let her know about Sherlock’s theory and then,” he spoke while he texted pausing when a new drink appeared before him to chug it down, “I’m going to get piss drunk,” John chuckled finishing off his first drink.

 

Hours later found Lestrade and John still in the pub though they had moved from the bar to a booth. Greg was more than hammered with John slightly less. “Did you hear about Sherlock’s girlfriend?” he blurted out Lestrade giggled his head laying on his arm that was propped up on the table.

“Oh! I didn’t know you two were dating,” the D.I. cackled John laughed almost forgetting what he was about to say.

“I’m not gay,” he managed before bursting out with another laugh. The two men laughed until tears were rolling down their faces, “No but seriously Sherlock has a girlfriend,” John tried again Greg looked very interested for someone who couldn’t feel his face.

“She’s super pretty,” John told him slurring the letters, “Little thing from America.”

Lestrade smirked “Didn’t know Sherlock knew what a girl was,” he said chuckling as he tipped his pint towards his face.

“He said she reminds him of me,” John added Greg sputtered sitting up beer dripped from his face. John handed the man some napkins watching as Greg mopped up his face “What does that even mean?” John asked swallowing some of his drink.

Greg gave him a serious but unfocused look “It means…” he started though failed to continue as he looked to have lost his thought. A moment passed as he sat there trying to figure out what he was going to say, “Oh, here we go,” Lestrade said looking triumphant, “It means he likes you,” he finished.

John stared his muddled brain panicked “What?! No that’s absurd! He’s Sherlock and well…” his words faded but Greg pressed.

“Well what?”

John felt a lump in his throat and a sudden need to throw up, “He’s Sherlock,” he repeated knowing there was no other way to say it and he didn’t need to.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Greg said knowingly finishing off his drink. John’s intoxicated mind became less foggy as strange thoughts assaulted his brain.

_Sherlock is Sherlock and I’m John. What more does there need to be said._

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Greg asked leaning closer to John, pulling the doctor from his thoughts.

“How drunk are you right now?” he questioned.

Lestrade laughed “To the point where I might not remember how to get home,” he answered.

“I think I might like him,” John confessed Greg stared at him.

“Who, Sherlock?!” he asked.

John’s face grew red “No Prince! Of course Sherlock how many hims do I know,” he retorted.

The D.I. giggled “You’re funny,” he murmured poking John on the nose.

The doctor sighed putting his face down on his arm “But him being Sherlock and his amazing self what do I do,” he said aloud though not really wanting an answer.

“I know!” Lestrade shouted startling John making him sit up, “The best part about being drunk is that you can go be ridiculously honest and not even care what might happen,” The D.I. said sounding almost sober.

John rolled the words through his head and had an urge to go see the consulting detective. “You know what,” he said Greg looked at him waiting, “What the Hell I’m going to go do it.” John announced getting a bright smile from Lestrade.

“Yeah good for you,” he cheered John finished off his final drink and slid from the booth.

“You alright to get home?” he asked not wanting to leave until he was sure of that at least. Greg nodded his eyes looking heavy John’s doctor side kicked in “I’ll see you home first,” he told him helping the staggering D.I. from the pub and into a cab. Taking the cab to Greg’s flat John made sure the drunk man made inside before taking the cab to 221B.

On the street in front of the flat, John looked up to see lights on but he knew that he couldn’t use that to confirm that Sherlock was indeed home. He suddenly felt weak and very drunk as he stumbled up the narrow stairs to the flat. At the door he didn’t bother knocking before opening it.

Lights glowed in the living room but it was empty. John moved inside enough to close the door. Leaning against the warm wood he stood there using door for support listening for anything but it was silent. Shrugging off his coat John dropped in on to the floor, kicking off his shoes as well.

Feeling a little more comfortable he shuffled forward to the couch and fell onto it. His face landed in one of the pillows that smelled strongly of Sherlock, making him smile. John lay there, his face buried in the pillow not feeling tired at all, he was content in just breathing in Sherlock.

“John,” Sherlock called.

John didn’t move he had sensed the man’s presence before he had even spoke, “John are you asleep?” Sherlock asked his voice much closer.

John turned his head cracking open one eye to find Sherlock crouched near his face, “Sherlock!” John sang rolling over on his side smiling.

“You’ve been drinking,” the younger man stated.

John giggled “A very accurate deduction,” he said watching a soft smile form on the consulting detectives face.

“Didn’t need to deduce that,” he said.

John poked his nose “Are you a psychic now?” he asked seeing that as a possibility.

Sherlock snorted “That is superstitious pseudo-science,” he muttered moving his legs to sit his shoulder pressed into the couch near John’s head.

“I bet you could pull off being a psychic if you needed to,” John murmured.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose “It’s unlikely we will ever find out,” he chuckled.

John could almost picture the consulting detective dressed in starry robes and a large turban perched on his head sitting behind a crystal ball throwing out fortunes like deductions.

“Stop that,” Sherlock said as if he could hear the doctor’s thoughts.

John smirked “What?” he laughed, “Imagine it Sherlock! You could be the great and powerful Holmes! Or Sheba Sherlock!” he teased seeing a smile growing on the younger man’s face.

“The Magnificent Sherlock,” he added.

John giggled “That’s already one of your titles can’t use that one,” he told him.

Sherlock frowned a bit “No one thinks I’m magnificent,” he spoke quietly John’s face softened looking at him intently.

“I do,” he whispered the alcohol was taking his embarrassment and turning it in to courage.

Sherlock’s eyes widened “Don’t be ridiculous John,” he scoffed the doctor’s heart sank a twinge of heat flooded his face, “If anyone is magnificent it’s you.”

John’s breath caught in his lungs “Now I don’t believe that,” he managed though it sounded a bit strained Sherlock leaned in closer.

“And why not?” he asked John was very aware of how close the two of them were now but he forced himself to focus on Sherlock’s question.

“I’m not a renowned consulting detective! I don’t have a super human brain that is almost magical! I don’t solve lifesaving crimes!” the doctor listed off though there was much more he could have said.

Sherlock had a small smile on his face that said very clearly that he knew something that no one else did “I’m not a doctor,” he said.

John snorted “I’ll give you that, so I have one thing going for me,” he laughed.

Sherlock’s smile grew slightly “You’re my best friend,” he continued.

John rolled his eyes “Can’t even count that one since you’re a part of that. So I have one and a half things going for me,” John commented bringing his fingers up to count on.

Sherlock’s fingers slipped into to John’s hand “And I think you are magnificent.” Sherlock finished squeezing John’s hand gently. The doctor couldn’t help but mark this moment as a milestone for something bigger and he could only stare at the younger man his mind completely silent.

They looked at each other for the longest time “Sit up my bums falling asleep,” Sherlock suddenly said rolling on to his knees.

John went to drop Sherlock’s hand but the man tightened his grip giving no room for protest. John had to maneuver into a position where he wasn’t interfering. They ended up sitting with their heads dangling over the edge of the couch their finger’s intertwined on Sherlock’s stomach.

“I like the world from this view,” he told John quietly getting a giggle in response.

“I feel like I’m spinning,” he said feeling warm and comfortable even though the room had taken on a slight spin.

“How much did you have to drink?” Sherlock questioned looking over at the doctor.

“A few though not as much as Lestrade, he could barely walk without help,” John answered giggling at the memory.

“I find you very interesting when you are intoxicated,” Sherlock stated John looked at him with a frown, “You’re very honest.”

“And I’m not any other time?” John asked not sober enough to feel offended.

“You are just not as open,” Sherlock assured.

John snorted “I’m the one who’s not open Mr. ‘I can deduce what you had for breakfast without even asking’,” he said.

Sherlock took on a frown now “I can be open when the time calls for it,” he retorted.

John snorted again “Yeah well you were open with a girl you just met then your supposed best friend!” he snapped dropping Sherlock’s hand sitting up a little too quickly.

“Are you…are you jealous?” Sherlock asked sitting up as well watching as John turned and pushed himself off the couch.

The Doctor stopped moving turning slowly to look at the younger man stuck between anger and shock. “Jealous,” he hissed knowing that it sounded about right but he definitely wouldn’t let Sherlock have the satisfaction, “No Sherlock I’m…I’m..” he stammered hating how he couldn’t find what he wanted to say. For a matter of fact he wasn’t even sure if he was anger at all.

“I’m drunk,” John finished Sherlock narrowed his eyes most likely seeing something John didn’t, “And I am going to bed now,” John stated looking Sherlock over a moment longer before heading up to his room.

 

_What the fuck did I do last night?_

This was John’s first thought as he became conscious. His head was pounding and his breath was rank in his nose.

_Never, never ever again! God my head!_

Even his thoughts made John grimace making him let out an audible moan. “Fuck!” he cried rubbing his cold hands on his face. That helped ease the pain a bit “Never again,” he rasped using a hand to search the side table for a water bottle he kept there. Finding it John kept his eyes firmly closed and sat up enough to get a drink without spilling.

_What day is it? Saturday? Friday?_

John wasn’t sure but Friday sounded about right.

_Shit Mary!_

He suddenly thought sitting up and regretting it instantly. Pain erupted through his body and he collapsed back down with a loud groan.

A quiet creak from one side of the room announced the door being opened. “John?” Sherlock’s voice called sounding like a marching band in John’s skull.

The doctor moaned grabbing his second pillow and threw it in the consulting detective’s direction, “Don’t be so loud,” John complained rolling over burying his face in his remain pillow.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked sounding closer though not as loud.

“I feel like death,” John replied, “What the hell was I thinking!” his stomach suddenly felt like rolling waves and nauseous. “God! What happened last night?” John asked remembering up until three drinks into the night but everything after was a blur.

“You and Lestrade drank.” Sherlock stated.

John groaned “No shit!” he growled knowing his irritation was ill placed.

“Afterwards you came here and we talked,” Sherlock continued not sounding phased though John noted the man wasn’t saying everything but frankly he didn’t want to hear what a fool he must have been.

John rolled back over cracking his eyes open and was glad to find that what little sunlight that flowed into the room didn’t assault his raw eyes. Sherlock stood at the edge of the bed, looking down on John making the doctor suddenly aware he wasn’t wearing a shirt just a bed sheet.

“Forget your clothes this morning Sherlock?” John asked hiding the red creeping to his face by turning to grab up his phone from the side table.

“Not at all, just in a bed sheet mood,” Sherlock answered John snorted before looking to see new messages on his phone.

**What happened last night? – GL**

It seemed Greg was just as at a loss as John.

 **Your guess is as good as mine mate. – JW** , John typed back slowly getting a reply mere seconds after he sent it.

**My head feels like a truck ran over it! – GL**

John laughed typing his reply, **Mine isn’t much better! Get some liquid in you. – JW**

**I vaguely remember you getting me home, thanks for that. – GL**

**Of course! Taking the day off I assume? – JW**

**There is no way I can take Donavan’s attitude today! – GL**

**Is that a yes? – JW**

**Yes smartass! What about you, staying in with Sherlock? – GL**

**Probably not, after I get myself somewhat functioning I’ll head home and see Mary. – JW**

**Have you talked to her since last night? – GL**

**No… - JW**

**It was nice knowing you John! – GL**

John laughed setting the phone down noting that Sherlock was still nearby haven been standing there quietly watching John through the whole phone conversation.

“So have you gotten any more from the case?” John asked sitting against the headboard.

Sherlock blinked as if breaking from a trance “Infuriatingly no! I am very stuck though if there is another murder I assure it will come up with the answer.” He replied sitting down lightly on the edge of the bed.

John had only witnessed a few times when Sherlock had been truly stuck and it was not a pretty thing to watch. “You’ll figure it out with or without a third murder there’s always something there that you might not see the first time,” John told the man pulling his legs from out of the covers and turning to set his feet on the floor.

“John!” Sherlock yelled jumping to his feet suddenly dropping his bed sheet. John jumped in surprise than attempted to avert his eyes from the very naked man before him, “John! You can be an absolute genius when you put your feeble mind to it!” Sherlock cried shaking with anticipation before running from the room.

“What are you going on about?” John shouted after him but didn’t get an answer.


	9. Stuck

“Nothing,” Sherlock snapped stomping into Lestrade’s office.

The weekend was over and everyone was back on the mysterious murder cases though Sherlock had been on it most of the time. He threw himself into a chair in front of the D.I.’s desk sulking.

Greg watched him “I told you,” he said receiving a heated glare from Sherlock.

“I knew you would give up too easily,” he grumbled. Sherlock had been over every shred of evidence over and over until he almost had it all memorized but nothing came back to anything on the murderer.

There were no finger prints as a matter of fact there was nothing that even suggested another besides the strange chemicals showing up in the victims’ bodies.

“Sherlock there is always a few cases that go unsolved,” Lestrade tried to assure but Sherlock jumped to his feet.

“Maybe for you but I will find who did this,” he growled stalking from the room. Lestrade didn’t understand this killer who ever it was knew that Sherlock would be working on it so they created a test. “It’s a game,” he told himself hailing a cab out on the street.

_There has to be a connection…_

Sherlock thought staring sightlessly out the window though traveling through his mind palace as he reviewed the evidence yet again,

_Two murders, ages vary between 45-50, one a fight stewardess, the other a secretary, both lived alone easy targets, no criminal histories, the 1 st the scene was almost spotless, while the other had excess clutter. _

The process with almost tedious Sherlock was reading through the information without even looking at the papers he imagined himself looking through. At this point a distant voice broke into his thoughts, the cabbie was yelling for him to get out. Sherlock threw money at the impatient man before climbing out.

 “Sherlock!” a voice called grabbing the man’s attention.

Glancing over Sherlock caught sight of Nikki jogging towards him “Miss Wilson,” he greeted gesturing for her to follow as they headed for the flat.

“I missed you last time,” she told him getting a nod in response.

“John informed me adding you two shared a meal as well,” Sherlock said she didn’t look surprised.

“Interesting man your friend,” Nikki commented.

Sherlock spotted a look pass over her face before it softened into a smile. “You don’t like him?” he asked watching her.

Her eyes reflected the smile she wore. “That’s not it at all,” she protested Sherlock listened as he lead them upstairs, “He’s very nice he’s just…how do I put this nicely?” Nikki hummed as they came into the living room.

Sherlock watched her “Normal,” she tested eyeing him. He tilted his head slightly “I would suppose anyone who hasn’t worked with him would come up with that conclusion,” Sherlock said knowing John was far from normal.

“I’m just curious how he…how he…stimulates you?” Nikki asked he blinked at her.

He had never thought about that question. Sherlock knew he himself were far from anything normal and that is why he had spent so much time alone in his life. Meeting John Sherlock had thought the same thing but John also had this pull on people that drew them in. Just having John admire and befriend him had been shown Sherlock that John was far from normal, he was interesting.

“He’s a friend,” Sherlock stated simply not really wanting to explain to her their complex relationship. Nikki looked at him intently for a moment longer before an understanding flashed in her eyes.

“So how has your case been going?” she asked changing the subject Sherlock groaned in response flopping on to the couch.

“Frustrating, I’m stuck!” he complained staring up at the papers stuck to the wall above his head. Nikki smirked at him before looking up at the wall. She stepped back centering herself to glance over the papers.

She stood rubbing her chin as she squinted staying like that for some time. “What’s this sulfur and phosphorous on here about?” Nikki asked stepping over Sherlock as she stood on the couch to move some papers over.

Sherlock gripped her calves to steady her “The two victims had those in their systems,” he replied watching her above him.

“That’s weird,” she muttered riffling through the papers reading slowly. “Are there any connections to the victims?” Nicki asked looking down at him.

“Other than the two were single and lived alone no,” Sherlock answer rather enjoying the view he was getting.

“Phosphorus and sulfur together are found in matches,” Nikki told him getting a curious tilt of his head, “Really?” he asked she nodded “Yes phosphorus sulfide.”

Sherlock hadn’t thought to look for the two forming something, especially something so mundane “Why would the killer want to put the ingredients for matches into the bodies of two women?” he scoffed.

Nikki glared down at him “I don’t know Sherlock do I look like a murderer to you?” she snapped stepping off the couch.

Sherlock rolled on to his side watching her “I know the murderer is directing me in a direction but I can’t see what the answer is yet,” he spoke his eyes seeing more than Nikki.

She frowned at him “Are you sure the message is for you?” she asked saying something that had never crossed the man’s mind.

“Who else would it be for?” Sherlock asked truly curious Nikki looked at him for a long moment before speaking,

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

 

**Get to 123 North Hempburg. This is a weird one – GL**

Lestrade’s text hadn’t been very descriptive and he wasn’t replying to any of Sherlock’s messages. When the D.I. hadn’t answered, Sherlock contacted John asking him to come to the flat. Within twenty minutes the doctor had arrived getting a brief overview from Sherlock before they were in a cab headed for Lestrade. When they arrives at the crime scene yarders were everywhere.

“This one is different,” John mumbled eyes wide as he took in the scene. Sherlock didn’t show as much surprise as the good doctor but it didn’t mean he didn’t agree. Inside the one story house people milled around talking amongst themselves looking very disheveled. Sherlock ignored them stalking for the area that seemed to be were the body was.

In the back bedroom Sherlock found what he was looking for though it wasn’t what he was expecting. A few steps in and he could understand why everyone seemed unorganized and disturbed. The room was a mess! It was mirroring both of the first two murders. With the right side clean and spotless leaving the left to the chaotic. The woman on the bed even copied the first two women. Sherlock looked around taking in the deductions before freezing…

 

* * *

 

“You weren’t kidding about this being weird Greg,” the doctor commented eyeing the strange display.

“Anonymous caller called it in,” Lestrade told him looking around, “It’s a mess never in my life have I seen something so…I don’t even know how to describe it.” The D.I. sighed before wondering back out into the main part of the house leaving John to stand alone. 

After a few minutes John noticed Sherlock hadn’t moved from his position “Sherlock you alright?” he asked moving towards his friend. As he stepped closer he saw that the taller man was visibly shaking “Sherlock?” John said moving around to face the man.

Sherlock’s eyes were wide and staring a look of pure panic on his face “I don’t understand,” he breathed John felt worry wash through him in a wave.

“What do you mean?” he asked watching the battle going on through Sherlock.

“It’s all the same John, there’s nothing here.” He spoke his voice on the edge of hysteria.

Never in all the time of knowing the consulting detective had John ever seen him react this way. Coming closer John reached out gripping the taller man’s shoulders.

“Breathe Sherlock,” he ordered Sherlock gently but the man didn’t seem to hear the doctor “Sherlock!” John snapped watching his friend focus his eyes on him, “Breathe and calm down,” John spoke softly Sherlock stared at him a long moment before taking an audible breath.

“Greg,” John called glancing at the door behind Sherlock dropping his hands from his friend.

Lestrade came back in as if expecting a report “Sherlock’s not feeling well so I’m going to take him home. We’ll stop by the yard tomorrow.” John told the D.I. Greg glanced over at Sherlock concern on his face.

“You alright Sherlock?” he asked moving closer. Sherlock was still struck by the scene and didn’t answer.

John eyed his friend “He needs to eat and sleep, it will do him some good,” he assured.

Greg nodded though looking worried still. “You go get some rest Sherlock and we’ll talk tomorrow,” The D.I. said patting Sherlock’s arm before going back into the main part of the house.

“Come on Sherlock,” John coaxed gripping Sherlock’s arm drawing him from the room. Moving through the house John continued navigating them feeling every eye on them.

_And you were trying not to seem gay to them,_

A small voice mocked but John ignored it more concerned about Sherlock right now.

Out on the street they caught a cab reaching 221B not long after. John led Sherlock up the stairs to the flat glancing back at him every now and then. Sherlock’s face looked ten years older and exhausted.

Once in the door Sherlock spoke “I’m sorry John,” he muttered quietly still shaking, “That has never happened to me before. I don’t know what came over me.” Uneasily John pulled the man’s coat off hanging it up by the door following it with his own.

“Why don’t you still down I’ll make us some tea?” John suggested smiling encouragingly. Sherlock looked at him managing a weak smile.

Moving into the kitchen John glanced to see Sherlock following him instead of sitting. The doctor didn’t complain, knowing that Sherlock was in a strange state and didn’t want him to shut down completely. The task of tea making took John’s mind off the matter for a few minutes. When two cups were filled with steaming auburn liquid, John picked them up and headed for the living room with Sherlock close behind.

“Sit,” John said nodding towards Sherlock’s chair.

The lanky man walked forward slumping in his chair and took the cup John handed him in both hands. Sitting in his chair John watched Sherlock for some minutes “Sherlock,” the doctor spoke, “Drink it will help you relax,” he ordered keeping his eyes on the man until he drank.

“Thank you John,” Sherlock murmured. John saw that the consulting detective did indeed look much better the shaking had ceased replaced by unsteadiness and his face still looked worn.

Sighing John set his cup down on the coffee table and stood, holding out a hand “Come on,” he said Sherlock glanced at his hand then at his face before setting his own cup down and took the offered hand. John pulled him from the living room heading for Sherlock’s room.

Opening the bedroom door, John dropped Sherlock’s hand the doctor pulled off his shoes before plopping down on the mattress, propping himself up against the headboard. Glancing up he saw Sherlock lingering in the doorway looking uncertain as he watched.

“Come here,” John smiled patting the empty space next to him. Sherlock looked at the space as if about to protest but he stepped forward none the less slowly making his way around the bed.

Sitting down on the edge, he looked at John with a look the doctor had never seen John smirked. “Come on lay down,” he encouraged. Sherlock’s eyes darted around before focusing on John again. Sherlock crawled across the bed a bit coming to a stop on the pillow next to John and flattened his body to the mattress.

John watched his friend seeing the taller man’s body was stiff with tension so John pulled him closer so his head rested in John’s lap. “Just relax,” John murmured starting to run his fingers slowly through Sherlock’s hair messaging his scalp.

Some time passed both men remained silent though not an uncomfortable sort or quiet. Sherlock finally sank down tension flowing from his body and released a heavy sigh.

“Better?” John asked enjoying the feel of Sherlock’s hair between his fingers.

He rotated in the John’s lap disrupting his hands to look up “It’s not unpleasant,” he confessed John could still see Sherlock’s brain working vigorously in his eyes. John smiled softly bringing his finger’s to Sherlock’s hair again and began messaging. Closing his eyes John let out his own sigh and relaxed against the bed.

 

It was sometime before John heard Sherlock breath even out indicating he had finally drifted off. Cracking an eye John glanced down at the younger man. He looked extremely peaceful for once and he just couldn’t help but watch. John himself didn’t feel tired and he was happy enough to let the other man rest.

_How did it come to this?_

He asked himself with a small smile. Here he was with his best friend in his lap and the only worry John had was if Sherlock was comfortable enough. John hadn’t stopped his messaging of the detective’s hair not sure if he wanted to stop.

A soft knock made John aware of another presence looking up John found Mary in the doorway. Seeing her, his stomach dropped and his mind began racing he had forgotten to call her.

“The door was unlocked,” she whispered moving closer glancing at Sherlock with a smile.

John panicked for words feeling shame wash through him “I’m sorry I should have called you,” he breathed but Mary waved his apology away.

“I know you are busy,” she spoke quietly looking far from upset.

They sat in silence for a while, Mary watched Sherlock fondly and John stared at her. She sighed looking up at him “Are you happy John?” Mary asked. Her question caught John off guard and he couldn’t really understand “Are you happy with him?” she repeated sitting down on the bed near him.

John looked down at Sherlock’s face in his lap only thinking “Yes,” he replied, “But I’m happy with you too,” he added quickly a pit growing in his stomach.

Mary’s smile widened “I know but,” she said throwing a quick glance at the other man, “I’m not him,” John’s heart fell hearing what she was saying. He wanted to go to her but he didn’t want to disturb Sherlock in the process.

“I don’t want you to be him,” John said softly.

Sherlock grumbled shifting and one of his hands gripped John’s leg. John and Mary watched him staying quiet until he settled back down.

Mary smirked “How can I compete with that?’ she joked dryly John was at a loss for words, “John, I know you want to do right by me and I know you do you me but Sherlock,” Mary paused her eyes became sad, “You belong right here without me,” John felt his breath hitch in his throat as he listened, “I want you to be happy and you’re the happiest by his side.” She looked down at her finger. The engagement ring gleamed dully in the light of the lamp on the night stand.

Mary slowly pulled it off “I was good for you when Sherlock was gone,” she spoke her eyes on the little silver ring. Bringing her eyes back to John’s she held it out to him. He felt numb as he shakily held up his hand realizing silent tears were rolling down her face.

“I would have married you,” John found himself saying. Mary dropped the ring in his waiting hand, her fingers brushed his palm. She gave him a weak smile not bothering to wipe up the tears.

“I know,” Mary said sounding upset for the first time, “John you are a good man and brave and noble and you need to be here for Sherlock,” she moved forward to embrace him. “I love you John Watson,” Mary spoke in his ear her voice broken with quiet sobs.

“And I love you,” John told her squeezing her as best as he could.

Before they broke apart Mary brushed a kiss to his cheek John watched as she wiped a few tears from her face. “Take your time in picking up your stuff from the house. I’m going to go visit my family for a few weeks.” Mary said as she stood.

“Will you be alright?” John asked feeling naïve.

She gave him a watery smile “Yes I think I will be,” she answered sincerely.

Mary looked at him a moment longer before looking at Sherlock her eyes softened and she smiled “Goodbye John,” she spoke though kept looking at the sleeping man, “Goodnight Sherlock sleep well,” she added before turning and left without another look.

John felt surreal he couldn’t help but feel guilt and shame.

_I should have tried…_

_It wouldn’t have worked._

_But I should have made any effort._

_She wouldn’t have stayed_

John was at war with himself coming closer and closer to the conclusion that with Sherlock back in his life there was no room for anyone else. John couldn’t understand how he had forgotten that. Before Sherlock’s Fall John hadn’t been able to keep any serious relationships because he had understood. John still couldn’t help but feel a little sick. Mary didn’t deserve this she was too good, too gentle.

_I’m no good_

John felt no tears prickle in his eyes. Sighing feeling exhaustion and misery John set the ring on the night stand, turning the light off, and lay his head back. Minutes passed before he was asleep.


	10. Taken

_Damn John! Damn sleep!_

Sherlock grumbled in his head cracking open his eyes grimacing when sunlight assaulted his pupils. Slamming them shut he snuggled deeper into his warm pillow, or more like his warm doctor.

Squinting at John, Sherlock endured the blinding light to see his friend. The doctor was sleeping his head slumped to his chest. Sherlock knew John’s back and shoulders would be stiff and hurting after sleeping like that but he looked peaceful and content. A glinting light from the side table drew Sherlock’s attention from his flat mate.

A small silver diamond ring lay abandoned on the surface reflecting light dully.

_A ring? Where did that come from?_

Sherlock glanced at John confused. Looking at the ring again he deduced it was an engagement ring, only a few months engaged, happily, nervous hands.

But where did it come from?

_Mary…_

A small voice offered surprising Sherlock. What? If that were true than what was the ring doing here?

_Unless…_

She came by and saw John and him together in bed!

John was stirring groaning loudly in pain “Shit!” he muttered rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t sleep sitting up next time,” Sherlock told him watching as John looked down.

“Next time?” he asked a teasing smile flashed across his face.

Sherlock smirked glancing at the ring forming a frown “When was Mary here?” he asked seeing John stiffen guilt and shame twisted his features.

_Shame? Guilt? Why?_

“Late last night,” John replied though it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it.

Sherlock was tempted to give him what he wanted but he wanted John to talk to him “What happened?” Sherlock questioned getting a glare from the doctor.

“Sherlock,” John growled a warning though Sherlock wasn’t intimidated.

“Please John,” he pressed gently John kept glaring but his face softened.

“Her ring is there Sherlock you can deduce that,” he told him roughly.

“I want to hear what you have to say,” Sherlock said.

The two stared at each other neither had moved from their positions. John let out a heavy sigh shutting his eyes a moment.

“She came here last night while you were sleeping. I forgot to call her when we got back,” he started his eyes opened drifting over to the ring. “She wasn’t upset. She said that she wanted me to be happy and she knew I was happiest when I’m here with you,” John paused, his eyes locked on the ring not really seeing it, “She gave me the ring and left,” he finished.

Sherlock saw John was upset but not for Mary breaking off the engagement but for hurting her? Sherlock wondered keep that to himself.

“She wasn’t upset?” he repeated.

John pulled his eyes from the ring hints of tears shined in them “It seemed like she was expecting it,” he said Sherlock wasn’t surprised to hear that.

Out of every woman John had tried to have a relationship with Mary had been the best choice for the doctor, the most worthy in Sherlock’s mind. She was smart for someone so normal and Sherlock knew the moment he met her that she would break off the engagement eventually.

“I am truly sorry John,” Sherlock said seeing John’s eyes widen, “I know you loved her,” Sherlock added. He had glimpsed a look pass between John and Mary a few times and he assumed it was love.

“She was amazing,” John agreed, “but she was right I’ll never want anything more than solving cases with you.” He confessed again Sherlock wasn’t surprised.

“How are you?” he asked knowing it was a polite thing to ask though he saw more in John’s eyes than the doctor would ever say.

“I’ll be fine,” John replied “She deserves to be happy even if it’s not with me,” he closed his eyes again.

They sat in silence for some time Sherlock watch John as he sat with his eyes closed. “Thank you,” Sherlock spoke John’s eyes snapped open as he looked down looking a bit confused. “For last night. I’ve never been to a crime scene that muddled me so,” he said softly.

John smiled weakly “I am your doctor Sherlock that’s what I’m here for,” he stated.

Sherlock smiled, reaching up a hand to run a finger over John’s cheek “That you are,” he murmured surprising himself as much as John. His breath catch in his throat Sherlock took the opportunity to slip out of the bed “Let’s go Doctor we have a murderer to find!” Sherlock called heading out into the living room, “The games is on!”

* * *

The two took a cab down to New Scotland Yard preparing to look at crime scene photos. John watched Sherlock, who seemed to not be feeling the same as the night before. He was amazed never having seen Sherlock freeze up at as he had. It proved once again how human he could be.

John smile before Mary drifted into his thoughts, guilt and shame shot through him. Mary had really been there for him when he needed someone and when Sherlock returned John had loyally gone back to him without a second thought about Mary. The worst part was he was alright with breaking off the engagement now that daylight was shining, metaphorically, of course since rain was pouring down in rivers. John felt no regret in ruining his relationship with Mary, he just regretted hurting her.

“John,” Sherlock’s voice cracked through the air breaking into John’s thoughts. “Are you sure you want to work today?” Sherlock asked smiling, stunning John with how sincere he sounded.

“Yes I’d rather be working than sitting at the flat doing nothing,” he replied as they pulled up in front of the Yard.

Sherlock paid the cabbie before getting out “If you’re sure. I just don’t want…”he had been saying when he suddenly stopped, eyes widening before slumping in the seat.

“Sherlock!” John shouted lunging towards his friend, noting the dart stuck in Sherlock’s arm.

Looking around John spotted a figure completely covered in black running away carrying a gun. Without a second thought John jumped out of the cab sprinting after the person ignoring the cabbie yelling after him. John closed the distance between him and shooter quickly.

The shooter ducked into an alley John followed catching a glimpse of the person dive through a door further down the alley. John hurried forward dragging the door open and running inside. Once the door closed he found himself in a large room that was pitch black.

It was so dark John couldn’t see the nose on his face. “Where are you?” he shouted listening as his voice echoed around. No other noise could be heard. John backed up to the door feeling for a handle but in vain. Suddenly a sharp sting hit his arm. John grunted grabbing his arm to feel a dart fall into his hand.

As he realized what was going on John’s mind began to get foggy. Not long after his legs off out from under him dropping him to the ground John didn’t have the strength to even attempt to move. He left himself being dragged towards waiting darkness when a light sprang to life before him.

In the light a silhouette stood in front of John’s fading body. It was the person in black John stared fighting unconsciousness.

“Go to sleep pet we’ll play later. Right now we’re going on a trip,” the person spoke moving closer.

John’s ears were muffled making it impossible to hear if the person was male or female. Just as he was about to close his eyes the person removed the ski mask from their face. John could only stare in momentary surprise before his eyes closed in unconsciousness.


	11. Drowning

           

“Sherlock,” a voice sounded from the distance trying to draw Sherlock from the warm and comfort he felt.

_No! Leave me alone!_

Sherlock hadn’t slept this well in sometime and it was fantastic!

“Sherlock!” the voice persisted. Sherlock grumbled fighting as he drew closer to consciousness.

_John! Leave me alone!_

“Sherlock!” a very un-John voice shouted very loudly.

“Is the shouting necessary?” Sherlock groaned giving into the wakefulness cracking an eye open.

It was Lestrade, who stood over him shouting and this confused Sherlock.

“Gary what are you doing in my room?” he asked glaring at the D.I. it was one thing to be shouting at him but it was another to be doing in his room.

“This is the Yard Sherlock,” Lestrade corrected, “And it’s Greg.”

Sherlock scoffed even more confused. Sitting up to look about it seemed the whole of New Scotland Yard was surrounding Sherlock from the couch he had been lying on.

“What happened?” he demanded glaring more intently at the D.I., “Where’s John?” Rubbing a sore spot on his arm Sherlock he scanned the room but saw no sign of his little doctor anywhere. “Where is John?” he repeated trying to remember how he had ended up unconscious at the Yard.

Memories of a cab ride then a sharp pain in his arm, and then darkness. Sherlock turned his gaze back to Lestrade.

“Greg, where is John?” he snapped feeling a rising panic starting to build.

“We were hoping you would be able to tell us,” Lestrade said looking nothing but the Detective Inspector that he was, “The cabbie told us that you collapsed and John ran after someone. We went looking for him but we couldn’t find John anywhere.” Sherlock froze.

_John! My John is missing! Could he have kidnapped?!_

Sherlock’s thoughts were whirling as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Sherlock’s hand moved automatically drawing the device from its place and glanced at the message.

It was a picture sent from John’s phone. Opening the text quickly Sherlock scanned the image, it was of John lying on a concrete floor his eyes were closed. Sherlock felt cold run down his spine as fear hit him. Under the picture there was a text:

 **Loose Something?** It was mocking! Sherlock glared at the words as another message arrived.

**  
Don’t worry your pet is alive** **J**

Sherlock jerked the phone at Lestrade who took it reading through quickly.

Giving it back he spoke “Don’t reply Sherlock.” His order held full strength giving Sherlock no room to protest. Giving Sherlock a hard stare the D.I. turned to the waiting people and began barking out orders. Sherlock felt numb he heard nothing going on around him he stared at the picture of John deducing everything he could see.

_Concrete floor could be basement most likely warehouse. John looked to be drugged possibly the same thing as me. No wounds._

A new message came through distracting Sherlock.

**I’ll keep his comfortable until you fetch him.**

Reading through the message Sherlock’s only thought was that somehow Moriarty had survived and was now back for revenge but that was impossible. His phone vibrated again announcing a new message.

 **Did you enjoy my little murders?** So the sender was behind the strange killings somehow that didn’t surprise Sherlock but it did give him an urge to text back.

Lestrade was watching and Sherlock knew that he would stop him if he tried. Another text arrived.

 **Solve my game and I might return Johnny boy in one piece…** Seconds later another one came.

**You have two days Mr. Holmes, better get started** **J**

It was the smiley that drove home the fact that John was truly in danger. “Sherlock,” Greg spoke having read the messages over the younger man’s shoulder.

“We need to get all evidence,” Sherlock knew he was right but felt as through everything was alright lost.

They moved quickly gathering everything within the hour. Sherlock felt he was in a trance letting Lestrade direct him. He could only think of John and how to get him back alive.

Sherlock had never doubted his abilities but he had never had a friend either. The crime scenes were all over the place and no evidence seemed to point to the killer so how could he in the next two days figure it out and save the one person he loved…

_Love?_

_Yes love…_

The feeling was not new Sherlock just had never put a word to it but in this moment he felt that it was the only word that fit the feeling. He loved John and now he was going to lose him to a psychopath.

“Sherlock!” Lestrade snapped breaking Sherlock from the soundless realm he had been in. He blinked looking around they had taken up on of the interrogation rooms and had the evidence piled around them. Looking at the D.I. Sherlock found the man very close to his face.

“Oh good you’re back,” Lestrade growled, “Now are you done? We do have a man we need to find and I would like him back in one piece!” Sherlock had never heard the D.I. putting forth so much emotion. “Sherlock!” Lestrade snapped slamming his hand down on the table.

Sherlock didn’t jump or react to the outburst “Yes I am,” he spoke calmly locking eyes with the other man. They stared at each other before Lestrade let out a long heavy sigh.

“Then let’s get started,”

 

* * *

 

His head was pounding, his chest ached, and his bad shoulder was throbbing. John groaned his voice echoing around him. Opening his eyes he found that he couldn’t see something was covering them. Silence is all he could hear his breathing sounded too loud in the quiet. Not even the sounds of traffic could be heard it was eerie.

“Where am I?” he shouted hoarsely.

Shuffling feet to his right could be heard coming in his direction. They grew louder and came to a stop not five feet from him. John couldn’t tell if it was another person or something else.

“Where the fuck am I?” he yelled turning his head in the direction of the presence but got nothing.

Suddenly water flooded John crashing over his face filling his mouth and nose. The flow went on for several minutes making it almost impossible to breath. When it ended John coughed and sputtered out water gasping for air.

“There we are my dear doctor feeling better?” a smooth male voice spoke, “Don’t want you to be too uncomfortable while we wait for your lovely Mr. Holmes.”

John could barely concentrate still trying to rid his lungs of water “Where am I?” he tried again once he has his breath back.

“Tisk, tisk Dr. Watson can’t give away that before the birthday boy arrives,” the man said in a singsong way that was disgustingly familiar.

“Bastard!” John rasped.

The man laughed “You are always so polite,” he spoke sounding closer.

“Who the fuck are you?” John yelled.

A few silent moments passed before the water came back. John found himself drowning, he tried to remain calm but as time went by and the water kept coming he abandoned that struggling against his bonds. Just when he was on the edge of unconsciousness the water stopped.

John was limp he had no strength to rid himself of the water in his lungs. A rough hand dragged John’s head forward and slammed him on the back. Torrents of water came out of him, John coughed feebly finally able to draw breath.

“Now, now doctor can’t have you clocking out on us just yet,” the man spoke very near John’s head, “If you can keep your language clean we won’t have to keep giving you a bath but by all means keep it up, I do so love to play,” the man added squeezing John’s bad shoulder.

John yelped as the pain shot through him. The man released him stepping back “Who are you?” John managed his question ringing in the room. A quiet hum stretched between them before a slow rumbling laugh came from in front of John.

Minutes went by before the laugh subsided “My dear Watson I imagine even your tiny ant brain can figure that one out,” John felt a shiver go through him as he realized he did indeed know who his capture was.

“Moriarty,” he whispered listening as the man began laughing again.


	12. Wood

“Wood?” Sherlock questioned again looking through the autopsy report on the third woman.

“Yes Sherlock, wood.” Lestrade repeated rubbing his head in frustration.

They had been up all night going through reports and evidence then going back through the reports and evidence but things still didn’t add up. Greg had a splitting headache and every time Sherlock opened his mouth the D.I. was almost tempted to punch him in the face. He somehow refrained his thoughts were mostly on John.

The sweet and just all around good guy Doctor John Watson, how on earth did he get mixed up in Sherlock’s insane life? Lestrade had always wondered why the doctor put up with half the shit Sherlock put him through. Then again Greg did the same thing and even had a bit of a fondness for the sociopath, even considered them as friends. John was his friend as well and even if it meant losing his job, Greg wouldn’t let him die without trying to rescue him.

“But in her system,” Sherlock spoke again sounding just as confused as Lestrade, “How is that possible?” the man asked throwing the stack of papers he had on to the table.

Greg looked Sherlock over thinking again that he needed a break even though he refused. “I don’t know Sherlock, splinters?” the D.I. suggested exasperated looking back to his own papers the words blurring together feeling Sherlock’s glare expecting an insult was coming.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sherlock snapped surprisingly without an insult included. Sherlock grabbed up his papers shuffling through them.

Lestrade let out a heavy sigh feeling drained and hopeless. Setting down his papers he rubbed his eyes before picking up another paper “Phosphorous, sulfur, and wood,” he listed shaking his head. How were these things related? How did they fit together? The answer seemed to get staring him in the face but his brain was sleep deprived and didn’t want to think too clearly.

“Matches,” Sherlock said suddenly looking as if someone had just slapped him in the face.

Greg looked at him even more confused. Matches? How was that supposed to help? “Excuse me?’ he asked but Sherlock was ignoring him, typical.

“Matches damn it’s been there the whole time,” he muttered flipping through us papers.

Lestrade was still bewildered. What was going on? Had Sherlock finally snapped? “Lestrade,” Sherlock snapped, “Get on the computer, search for match factories that Miss Martin or anyone else from the list might have been associated with,”

Greg was still trying to figure out what the younger man was asking him to do when Sherlock growled and moved around the table to grab up the laptop near the D.I.

“Why don’t I just do it?!” Sherlock grumbled opening up the computer. Greg watched as the man started to type away bringing up a site he had never seen and he wasn’t sure was even legal.

It took Sherlock only minutes to find what he had been searching for and he let out a triumphant cry. Lestrade leaned in closer scanning through the information. “Dekin Match Company, Port of London. Bankrupt in the early 90’s, Miss Martin worked there for three months and everyone else on the list either worked for the company or had close relatives that did,” he read scrolling through the site.

“The Company’s warehouse lies abandoned on the wharf.” Sherlock finished suddenly sprinting from the room leaving a dazed Detective Inspector.


	13. His Last Few Seconds

_Matches! How stupid can you be? Nikki gave you the answer days ago and you went and filed it as useless information!_

Sherlock scolded himself as he caught a cab heading through London.

_John’s life hangs in the balance and your superiority complex might kill him!_

Sherlock grumbled in agreement. He had made a mistake, now John could be dead and it would be his fault, no doubt about it.

_At least we are on the right track!_

He told himself anxiety running through him as more and more time passed. The cab ride was taking far too long in Sherlock’s opinion but he wasn’t going to waste time complaining. When they had finally arrived Sherlock slipped the cabbie a few bills to wait while he searched out the warehouse. Leaving the cab Sherlock sprinted between the towering buildings hunting for his target.

_Too long Sherlock!_

A voice screamed in his head. Sherlock felt panic building inside him and it almost hurt as fear joined in. he forced himself to calm down worrying only for what he might find in the warehouse. Spotting a fading Dekin sign, Sherlock pushed himself to run faster.

He didn’t waste a thought on waiting danger as he neared the building. Finding a small bay door Sherlock used all of his strength to pry it open. When the door gave in and slowly rolled open Sherlock hurried in.

“John!” he screamed his voice echoing around before fading into the dark. Tall windows at least twenty feet up allowed sunlight in enough to see the mass of the warehouse. There was nobody, the place was empty Sherlock spotted a lone chair near the center of the warehouse. Jogging forward, Sherlock saw an abandoned hose lying beside the chair and the floor was damp. Getting closer to the chair Sherlock looked it over.

_Someone had been sitting here tied, while someone sprayed water on them._

Sherlock deduced getting a cold shiver.

_John…_

He had been tortured.

This knowledge made Sherlock’s heart ache. A quiet buzzing sound caught his attention Sherlock glanced down to see a phone on the ground near his foot. Grabbing it up he recognized it as John’s and turned it on to see a message waiting for him.

 

 **Well done Mr. Holmes.** It was short and made no mention of John but Sherlock didn’t have to wait long before another text came through.

**There was a slight change in plans but don’t fret the game is still on.**

Sherlock clutched the phone tight in his hand anger rising above the fear.  The phone vibrated.

**I would suggest going to the Tower of London I left you a present and this one expires…**

Reading through it quickly Sherlock pocketed the phone and sprinted back out of the warehouse and back towards the cab. Sherlock wasn’t sure how he found the cab again after leaving the maze of warehouse but he managed and was off again.

The car flew through London breaking speeding laws but luck seemed to be on their side today and no one bothered to stop them. Sherlock watched the passing buildings scanning for the one he knew that he would see before arriving. The Tower was a busy tourist site so it would have dozens of people milling around even on a cloudy day like today.

Whatever the killer was planning Sherlock felt that there would dozens of casualties he filed that way reluctantly in ‘useless information’ keeping only John in mind. Sherlock barely let the cab stop before he jumped from the cab at the Tower and raced through the open area. People were everywhere taking pictures and talking in a loud buzz. Sherlock hurried through looking for a clue, a hint something to direct him.

Suddenly his eyes fell on a familiar blonde head, sat slumped over on a step leading up to the Tower. His heart jumped Sherlock headed for the man.

“John!” he cried as he drew closer.

Falling to his knees near John “No, no, no, Sherlock, no.” the doctor was mumbling clearly drugged.

Sherlock touched his face searching for injuries “You’re alright now I found you. I got you.” Sherlock spoke quietly his heart nearly bursting with relief.

John’s eyes rolled in his head to focus on him “No…Sherlock go…way…bomb,” the doctor managed.

Sherlock stopped when he heard the word bomb, noting that John’s jacket bulged slightly. A horrifying suspicion drove Sherlock to slowly unzip the man’s jacket, revealing the very real bomb underneath.

Sherlock somehow kept his panic under control as he spotted a timer counting down, bringing his eyes to John’s face “John we are going to slowly take off your jacket then the bomb, ok?” Sherlock told the doctor moving his hands to start.

One of John’s hands gripped Sherlock’s wrist, stopping him “Can’t…remove…boom.” John spoke every word hitching as he struggled to fight off the drug’s effects. Sherlock saw fear in the doctor’s eyes and he glanced down to see there was less than a minute remaining.

Sherlock understood. 

He understood in that moment that they were truly and without a doubt going to die.

“Sher…lock,” John breathed his fingers touched Sherlock’s face.

When he looked up, Sherlock realized that tears had rolled down his cheeks without him noticing. John’s face showed fear but held a sad smile his eyes filled with sorrow.

Sherlock scanned his friend’s face noting every detail, committing it to memory, wanting to never forget the image.

“Love you.” John said.

Sherlock laughed out of fear and happiness. Happy that he got to hear John say that but afraid knowing that in those last few moments that he and John would never share anything ever again.

“I love you too John,” Sherlock said watching his friend, his doctor smile a bright smile.

Sherlock looked over John’s face for a moment longer before folding him into an embrace. Sherlock sank into the smaller man’s warmth in complete bliss.

If this had been any other moment, any other time it would have been perfect, it would have been the second best part of Sherlock’s life. The first begin, when John came to live at 221B, Sherlock would have held John forever.

A quiet beeping announced the timers last few seconds but Sherlock tuned it out squeezing John tighter to him and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

John had been sitting blind folded, alone, and bound to a chair for some time now. Moriarty had left without warning and John was left in silence.

_How long have I been here?_

John wondered though of course he had no idea since he had been unconscious most of the time. His best guess was about a day. John’s thoughts drifted towards Sherlock, curious if his friend was actually looking for him or just sitting on the couch at the flat still suck on solving the murders.

_He’ll come for you…_

_I know, that’s what I’m afraid of._

He sighed knowing that Sherlock would be coming and that he would be putting himself in danger on John’s account. That didn’t suite well with the ex-soldier since John felt it was his job to put his life on the line not the other way around.

_If Sherlock got seriously hurt…_

Even the thought made John sick. He didn’t want images of a bloody or a lifeless Sherlock drifting through his head. John shook his head forcing the thoughts away hoping by some miracle Lestrade will figure it out before Sherlock.

A door opening sounded to John’s left and the echo to many feet announced the arrival to several people.

“Well Dr. Watson,” Moriarty’s voice purred, “It seems we’ve had a change of plans.”

John’s hands were roughly untied and his jacket was pulled off. It was replaced by what felt like a vest it fell heavy and familiar against his chest. John had a sinking feeling we knew exactly what it was as his jacket was forced back on. The sound of Velcro could be heard as the vest was tightened around his chest.

“You my dear are in for a treat,” Moriarty spoke cheerfully, “Out little detective is very near to solving my little riddle and I would hate for him to get to the punch line too soon so I’ve added a little surprise,” John felt something prick his arm, “You won’t pass out this time Doctor I want you awake through the whole thing. Wouldn’t want you to miss the grand finally!” Moriarty giggled.

John began to feel foggy and found it hard to concentrate properly. He barely registered his hands being untied and forced behind his back or begin partially carried. Distant sounds of vehicle doors being opened grabbed a small amount of interest but John’s eyes were still covered and that faded quickly. He was pushed on to a seat where he remained his face pressed into the soft material.

“Where, go?” he managed his tongue felt fat and award in his mouth making forming words hard.

“Tisk, tisk pet that is a surprise as well, don’t want to spoil that.” Moriarty answered his voice slow and drawn out in John’s ears.

The vehicle they were in began to move, it’s gentle movement lulled John unto a doze. He didn’t think, he just drifted even felt a bit safe though it was more like a state of uncaring. It felt like forever before the vehicle finally stopped abruptly waking John.

“Now Doctor listen well,” Moriarty spoke it took all of John’s focus to concentrate on the words coming at him, “You have a wee bit of explosives attached to you but don’t try to remove them or you and dozens of innocent ants will go up in flames,” John was vaguely aware that his instincts had been right about the weight on his chest.

John’s blind fold was pulled off and dull sunlight attacked them forcing John to close them. Vehicle doors were opened and John was pushed from it strong hands gripped his arms. John kept his eyes closed letting the person lead him. He was aware that he was outside the quiet buzz of people talking could be heard, a slight breeze played with his hair as they walked over flat ground.

They stopped and John was pushed down “Doctor you sit here, be a good boy,” Moriarty spoke softly zipping John’s jacket up, “And don’t leave or you will miss your visitor.” John cracked his eyes open seeing a blurry face drawing closer. Suddenly lips brushed his cheek burning his skin “For luck pet,” Moriarty hissed almost fondly before he moved away his dark form leaving John’s vision.

_And now we wait…At least Sherlock isn’t here_

John’s thoughts formed slowly closing his eyes. He wasn’t scared. John had been in enough life-threatening situations that he had become numb to them. What did he have to be scared of? The bombs weight against his chest made John think of the people he could hear near him. The people just enjoying the time out. He felt sorry for them. They were going to die because of him and he had time to mourn these strangers.

“John!” a distant horrifying voice cut into John’s thoughts. He froze.

_Sherlock!_

“No, no, no,” John began muttering hoping it was his drugged imagination but the gentle hands on his face were far too real, crushing that hope.

“No, no, no, Sherlock, no,” John said trying to get his arms to work. Sherlock was talking but John caught bits “Alright…found…you.”

John concentrated using all his energy to focus on Sherlock “No, Sherlock, go, way, bomb,” John managed wishing that the man would simply go away and save himself.

He wanted nothing more in the world than for Sherlock to be safely far away. Sherlock seemed to understand as he unzipped John’s jacket “Take…off…bomb,” Sherlock’s words said.

John panicked spurring some strength to grip Sherlock’s wrist “Can’t, remove, boom,” the doctor said feeling a little less foggy. Sherlock’s eyes stared at the bomb and for the first time in knowing the consulting detective John watched as all of the fight go out of the man. It broke his heart.

“Sher…lock,” John breathed lifting a heavy hand to touch his friend’s face. When Sherlock looked at him John saw the tears. The soul wrenching sight burned into John’s mind “Love you,” he spoke words that he had kept to himself for so long.

Sherlock laughed, not a mocking sound but a joyous and fearful noise that sounded strange but good coming from the man. “I love you too John,” his friend said making John’s heart flutter he even managed a smile. Sherlock then hugged him. John felt everything in that embrace and the thought of losing Sherlock again terrified him completely. John felt tears on his face not noting a quiet beeping just felt Sherlock hold him tighter.


	14. Eruption

“Where has that bastard gone?!” Greg raged.

Him and his team had arrived at the Dekin warehouse twenty minutes after Sherlock had raced from the Yard but the damnable man was nowhere to be seen.

“The Freak is missing? What a shame…” Donavan said sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“Donavan!” Lestrade snapped watching her glare at him, “Shut up!” She huffed but remained quiet Anderson added his glare.

“Sir we don’t know,” a lesser detective answered as a few others milled around the empty warehouse.

“There was definitely someone here recently,” Anderson chimed in.

Greg glanced to find the man near the chair surrounded by a damp floor. Lestrade couldn’t help but roll his eyes even he could figure that one out without help.

_Been spending too much time with Sherlock._

“Well people let’s get searching we need a hint of where he might have gone,” Greg instructed his eyes running over the chair then to the hose.

_Torture_

He concluded a pit forming in his stomach. Sherlock must have come here and got John but if that had happened the D.I. would have heard something so Sherlock must have come here, John was already gone, and the kidnappers sent some sort of clue to the consulting detective of where to go next.

Suddenly an erupting explosion sound vibrated through the air shaking the ground slightly Lestrade was shocked and everyone had frozen looking around in a panic. Glancing towards the sound Greg ran for the open door. Outside over the tops of the buildings he could see a giant fireball and smoke filling the sky.

“Sherlock, John,” Lestrade gasped in horror as he and his team sprinted for their vehicles.

 

* * *

 

_A quiet day, it wasn’t normally quiet. How can it be so quiet?_

Mycroft was annoyed. He never had a quiet day.

_This was the government for God sakes!_

Mycroft began pacing in his office rubbing his chin. The famous umbrella of his perched gracefully next to the chair behind his desk.

_Something is wrong, something is going on!_

That indeed was a strange thought there was little going on in the world that Mycroft didn’t know about. London was his main focus but there was something going on that bewildered the head of the government.

_Sherlock must have some idea._

That singular thought stopped Mycroft in his tracks. Sherlock knowing something that Mycroft didn’t was truly an unfathomable idea. It all started when those strange murders started showing up. Something seemed to snap and things in London started to fade. Mycroft wasn’t seeing the usual reports anymore most of them had nothing in them.

Anthea even showed a little amount of worry from behind her blackberry. “Not good,” she had said a few days ago.

Not good was an understatement.

Mycroft was livid “There has to be something we are missing!” he spoke out loud returning to his pacing.

When Mycroft’s office door flew open without so much as a knock he knew something catastrophic had happened. A young agent stood in the doorway his hair disheveled and the look of pure fright on his face was enough for Mycroft to know it was much worse than he might conceive.

“Sir,” the man started breathless, “There has been an explosion.” Mycroft crossed the small space in two long strides coming almost chest to chest with the young man.

“Where?” the head of government questioned.

The man took a visible gulp “The Site, sir.” The agent answered tensely.

Mycroft’s eyes widened in understanding. The Site the one place in London that he had hoped would go unnoticed.


	15. Surprise

Minutes went by Sherlock crushed John to him waiting for the explosion, waiting for wither pain or just a sudden end. He felt John quiver against him and they still waited. Sherlock opened his eyes confused surly enough time had gone by and they should be a fiery inferno.

Slowly he realized that indeed too much time had gone, too much. Where was the heat, the flames, the raining of body parts? Sherlock pulled away from the little doctor to glance down at the time. It wasn’t counting down anymore. It was now flashing the word ‘Surprise’.

_Surprise!_

Sherlock read glaring at the word.

“No boom?” John asked hopefully.

Sherlock pulled his eyes from the insufferable word “No boom,” he replied feeling relief go through him.

“Surprised indeed,” a voice said in amusement catching the two men’s attention.

Sherlock turned to look stunned to find Nikki standing before them but not the usual Nikki. The woman in front of them wore tight black jeans, a matching leather jacket, and knee-high, high heeled boots.

She was also pointing a gun at them “Nikki?” Sherlock asked seeing a smirk on her face though not the playful smirk he was used to.

“Hello Sherlock dear having a rough day, are we.” She spoke with a perfect British accent.

She leveled the gun at them and Sherlock instinctively shifted in front of John. Nikki noted the movement her smirk grew “How adorable! A broken army doctor turned pet and a defective sociopath,” she mocked stepping closer, “I did so enjoy watching you and your pet but I’m sorry to say that my time is done here.” Her voice had a hysterical cheerful edge to it. Her eyes narrowed “The Son gives his regards,” Nikki added pulling the trigger.

The gun shot echoed followed by screams and running of the people nearby Sherlock flinched expecting fiery pain but it was John who cried out.

“John!” Sherlock cried just as a louder ground shaking sound exploded through the air.

Sherlock’s eyes were drawn to a ball of fire erupting into the sky several blocks from them. Forcing his attention back to John Sherlock saw the doctor clutching a bleeding led. Moving quickly Sherlock ripped a strip from his coat wrapping it tightly around the bullet wound. With that in place Sherlock glanced around but Nikki had vanished.

 

A little over half an hour later Sherlock had somehow managed to get a cab to take him and the bleeding ex-soldier to St. Bart’s where John was immediately transferred into surgery to get the bullet removed from his leg. Sherlock was forcibly moved into the waiting room where he now paced his nerves on end. As he went over the events in his mind Sherlock had a stray thought reminding him to send an assuring text to Lestrade to let him know that they were alive.

 

**Got John, St. Bart’s. – SH**

 

He deemed those words sufficient enough to tide the D.I.’s worry as he went back to his pacing. ‘The Son sends his regards’ Nikki had said. Who was this ‘son’? How had Nikki tricked him so thoroughly? How was all of this connected? These questions raced through his mind. The murders had been a message but not for him but for who? The building that was blown up, what was it?

“Mr. Holmes?” a voice brought Sherlock back to the waiting room. A doctor stood in the doorway looking him over.

 “Yes,” Sherlock answered striding towards him.

“John Watson just got out of surgery and has been asking for you,” the man told him, “It can’t be too long he needs to rest,” the doctor added before leading Sherlock through down the hall to some double doors.

Once in John’s room the doctor left “There you are,” John mumbled a tired smile on his face.

Sherlock returned the smile as realization hit him. They were going to be alright.

“Doctor says the leg will be back to normal quickly though it might be a little stiff.” John told him stifling a yawn. Sherlock moved closer to the bed taking the seat nearby.

They sat in blissful silence Sherlock watched his friend thinking he had fallen asleep before brown eyes opened to look at him.

“I was scared,” John said quietly turning his head to look out the window, “I was scared that you would come and that you would be there when the bomb went off,” he brought his eyes back to Sherlock. “And when you showed up it was the worse feeling that I have ever felt. It was like my heart had been ripped from my chest. That terror I felt just with the thought of losing you was overwhelming.” His voice broke with emotion.

“John I am a consulting detective and as long as I can run I will continue to do that,” Sherlock told him curious to know if his friend was tempting to ask him to stop being a detective.

“Sherlock I would never ask you to give up something you love,” John assured as if he could read Sherlock’s mind.

“Good,” He said hearing a sigh come from John.

A brief silence fell over them “Did you mean it?” John suddenly asked.

“Yes John, I won’t give up being a consulting detective.” Sherlock replied slightly annoyed.

“No. I mean before at the Tower when we both though we were going to die,” John clarified.

Sherlock thought back to those last few moments of life-threatening tension, hearing John’s confession and feeling like his heart was about to explode from happiness.

“Yes,” Sherlock answered slowly leaning forward John smiled nervously a blush creeping into his cheeks. “How long have you known?” Sherlock asked curious having never paid any attention to situations involving relationships before.

John didn’t answer right away looking as if he were giving the question some real thought. When he did speak his words were specifically chosen “I think it really hit home when you came back,” John’s eyes stayed on Sherlock’s as he spoke, “I think Mary knew that too,” He added.

Sherlock held a small knowing smile on his face he had noted the change in John since coming back. He saw the lingering stares, the constant worry, and the dilatation of the doctor’s pupils these things had gone down into the ‘John room’ in Sherlock’s mind palace.

John’s fingers intertwined with Sherlock’s. The taller man glanced down at their hands feeling absolute comfort “I do love you John,” he told the man looking back to him, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you. That’s way I came back. I had to fight every day to keep myself from calling you and when I came back…”Sherlock paused collecting himself, “and I saw you with Mary…I was happy that you had someone who made you happy and who would keep you safe.” He fell quiet.

John watched Sherlock “I was happy but I’m feel more at home with you. I wouldn’t give that up for safe.” John said unable to fight off another yawn.

Sherlock squeezed the smaller man’s hand “Get some sleep my dear doctor,” he encouraged kissing the back of John’s hand.

The older man lay on his side gripping Sherlock’s hand a soft smile on his lips. It wasn’t long before the doctor was snoring softly. Sherlock sat watching content with the comfortable silence. His thoughts drifted thinking over how far he and John had come agreeing with Nikki’s deceptive description ‘a broken army doctor’ and ‘defective sociopath’.

John had been broken. Sherlock first deduction was John’s signs of pending suicide if he remained alone. Within the first few days of living at 221B Sherlock watched the man’s drastic improvements. He had been fascinated how only human interaction had changed the doctor.

Then there was Sherlock the self-proclaimed sociopath, a concept he had come to embrace as a child. He did indeed feel though he had trained himself to hide those emotions for times he was alone. The broken army doctor and defective sociopath were fitting for the pair but they had ruined each other in a good way.

“Sherlock,” a familiar voice spoke softly.

Sherlock didn’t need to look to know his brother was standing behind him to the doorway of the room. “Mycroft not here for a sentimental visit are we?” Sherlock mocked knowing his brother all too well.

Mycroft didn’t speak though his lingering presence let Sherlock know he hadn’t left “I would like a word with you where we won’t be a disturbance,” Mycroft told him slowly.

Sherlock had been expecting snide and arrogance turning he looked to see his brother’s eyes on John. The look in his brother’s face spoke volumes “Very well,” Sherlock gave in standing reluctant to let go of John’s hand. Leaning down Sherlock kissed the sleeping man’s forehead. Turning he saw his brother looked thoroughly stunned. Smirking Sherlock strolled past him heading for the door.

Once both brothers were out in the hall Sherlock looked Mycroft over. He was out of sorts! The man was jittery, shaky, and visibly sweating.

“What has happened?” Sherlock found himself asking. He was stunned to see his brother so stressed. Never had he seen Mycroft like this. The older Holmes prided himself on being the picture of calm, cool, and collected.

Mycroft took a deep breath “The worse possible event in modern history,” he answered Sherlock saw no amusement in his brother’s words knowing Mycroft rarely joke. “The explosion earlier,” he began clutching his umbrella tightly turning his knuckles white, “It was a secret hub for national secrets,” his face paled almost choking on the words. “Your three murders over the past weeks was a message,” Mycroft locked eyes with Sherlock, “A message meant for me that I regret to say I missed until it was too late. Dekin Match Company was a front company disbanded in the 90’s.”

Sherlock’s ears mentally perked “Front company?” he repeated.

Mycroft nodded weakly, “A criminal consulting agency.” He breathed.

Sherlock tensed. “Moriarty!” he hissed stepping closer to his brother, “You mean to tell me that Moriarty had a front company in the 90’s and you didn’t think to tell me!” Sherlock growled.

Mycroft didn’t flinch looking the least bit intimidated. “That information was not needed to be known,” he shot adding a glare.

Sherlock returned the glare “Are you sure Moriarty is dead?” he asked noting that his brother didn’t seemed surprised by the question.

“Yes, you watched his shoot himself,” Mycroft answered though Sherlock was sure he was hiding something.

“And I jumped in front of John yet here I stand,” Sherlock threw back smoothly.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes “Those were different circumstances Sherlock!” he growled.

“So Moriarty’s fan club is tormenting you?” Sherlock said bringing them back to the starting topic.

Mycroft’s glare deepened “Not as dramatic as that but in a way yes. Though they won’t be causing only me problems but most of the world as well.” He corrected.

Sherlock sighed wishing to get to the point of this conversation “So what do you want from me Mycroft?” he asked knowing that this was the reason his had come.

Mycroft gave him a look hard look before speaking “Help me Sherlock,” the older brother managed forcing himself to say the next words, “I need your help. You and Dr. Watson.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end guys! Thank you for reading hope you enjoyed. Leave a comment, I would love to hear from you.


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